A Love Story Before and After Me
On some level, I know how their love story started. I know the whole middle bit and I’m sure I’ll be there at the end. But the beginning started with a desperate man and a done-with-it woman. A young 20-something who already had a 6-year-old kid and divorce papers waiting to be signed. He saw her and thought “I’m going to marry this woman one day.” But she noticed him and thought, “Why is that guy looking at me like that?”
She had no room on her plate for a newly immigrated, freshly learned English kind of man. But he saw what he wanted and the aching desperation turned to burning dedication. So he would invite her to visit him at work. To watch him as he made drinks for other customers and had conversations with people she didn’t know. Seems like a strange proposal, right? Why would she want to come and watch you work? But something about it tugged her into coming back. And then she came again. And again. And again.
After a while, she just enjoyed his company, even if he wasn’t only sharing it with her. She would come for the company but I think she stayed because she felt protected, the sense of much-needed tranquility he gave her. Whenever she could she would leave the kid with whoevers arms opened first.
For some reason whenever I envision this bar that I’ve never been to and probably will never go to, I see a lot of blues. I think of the barstools with a deep blue metallic fabric hemmed to them. And I see those crystallized glass squares they have in bathrooms and pool houses behind where he would be standing. Bordering the shelves of liquor from the kitchen in the back where they probably make things like truffle fries and chicken served only with blue cheese. Not because it's also blue but because the ranch is too low of a condiment to have at this type of establishment. I envision him wearing a vest and a bowtie the same deep blue color that lined the chairs. And his hair is frizzy, dark, and longer than he would’ve kept it if he hadn’t moved to America.
After months of him tightly clutching the string she threw. She was glad to hold it. Those nights spent at the bar turned to dinner dates that ended at her place. And morning breakfasts made by him before she took her kid to school. And evening cenas with her family that lived around the corner. It became their little routine. Somewhere in between that and them finally deciding to live together, I love yous were exchanged. Making everything that came after a lot less scary. Because they knew they’d be doing it together.
It took her 6 years of dating to finally realize that what happened to the love before this one, wouldn’t happen again. That this was a love she was worthy of and that he would endlessly give her. That the “I do’s” were worth saying because this time he would truly mean it. He had stuck around for so long, how could it not?
