Second Chances

Because I don’t think that no one comes to our life by chance, because I do believe that it is all written. Because I like the idea that there is a “red thread” and that two people united by the same one are destined to be lovers, regardless of the time, place, or circumstances. It’s an oriental legend that says that that magical thread can be stretched or tangled, but never broken. That is why “I Remember You” especially touches my heart. Because there are stories that can only be explained by believing that the connection comes from another life, that that is the reason for that familiarity, that feeling of ‘being at home”, that peace.

I can share a story that describes exactly that feeling and it is not a conventional one because not all stories are fairytales, and life never stops surprising us and giving us second - and at times - third chances.

Since I decided to get a divorce, I had been looking for an excuse for something to shake me up. I was sure that if I allowed myself to have someone inside me who wasn’t my husband, that if I shared the intimacy that I had been sharing for more than 15 years with another man, that THAT would be the deciding factor, the one that would eject me out of a relationship without love, without sex, without a future, without projections.

It was a friend’s boyfriend who told me after I shared this theory with him: You have to go out with my brother, he is the best one that I can introduce you to! And almost like a game, like taking very lightly the decision to meet “someone else”, of breaking up with morality and searching for the most coward way to get out of a labyrinth that I felt had no exit, I accepted. The encounter tool almost 10 months to finalize, but they say that life has the perfect timing for things to happen; not a minute earlier, not a minute later. That is how I arrived to his house. After days and days of writing to each other it seemed natural to go to his hiding place… that is why I didn’t understand my nervousness when I arrived, but as soon as our eyes met, I felt peace. The effect was immediate. His white shirt, his beard, his eyes almost sad that also enclosed pain and past. It all made sense; the soft music, the well-balanced decoration, the chosen wine. Nothing was out of place… I smiled. The man cooked and I don’t know from where, but I got the courage to get close to him while he did the dishes. “It’s very sexy to watch a man cook,” I told him, “you deserve a kiss.” It was a premeditated action, more than wanting him to save me, to rescue me from my world, I thought it carefully and I decided to jump into the abysm precisely because there was no future, despite of how much I urged to feel the possibility of an “afterlife…” Since I was not expecting “something more,” there was nothing to lose, so I took a chance. This was my passport to make the decision that I needed although I had never had occasional sex, one-night stands were not my thing.

The kiss felt very familiar, it was a kiss that transported me to a fantasy, to an escape, to a promise that everything was going to be okay.

We continued kissing and the kisses extended to/ on every corner of the house and my body. We got to his bedroom, the room was very dark, the movements were not rough. We let the clothes mount on the floor with the insecurities. I felt comfortable, too comfortable and at that moment I knew that I was going to want more, that our encounter was not an accident and that we had already been there. I didn’t think that I was going to be so at ease with the first person after so many years - it had been a long time since I had shared intimacy - and it is true that there is nothing sadder than to feel alone when you are with someone. I never expected that moment, that bed, his nervousness, his sweetness. He hugged me closely and at the moment of climax, his breath sounded like a cry.

I would like to emphasize the theme of the connection and the moment, but for those who are interested in knowing how the story continued, he and I were together for a couple of months, until I decided to go back to my country. It’s been three years and we see each other every time I go back. We talk at least once a month, we are still connected on every way even though there are times when we have other people with us in our journey. We’re still not up for the next step or maybe this will be it because sometimes people come to your life to help you in a specific moment and not to stay in your day to day. Regardless of how it ends, I feel that this is a connection from the afterlife and that doesn’t have an ending.