"You said you like your apples tart..."

I brought you three green pears, and three green apples. You said you like your apples tart.



"Will you tell me a secret?" you asked. I watched your chest rise and fall deliberately, your eyes reaching up for mine.



"Yes," I said, "I'll tell you a secret." You looked intentional. I knew this look. I cleared my throat and prepared myself.



"How can a man really take care of a woman?"



I felt it, the depth of your desire to really know. I watched the roots creep out slowly from the entangled question. You were hoping for the answer, the one searched for in crevases and on mountain tops by every good man who loves a woman. I scanned your eyes. Yep. You wanted the answer to be backed up with so many experiences, that by the end of our conversation this evening, you knew you could go out into the world of women, entrusted with the impossible power to change a woman's mind about men. I was reminded once more that you are continuously giving yourself that role.



Your voice was heavy. You watched to see if I would struggle or back down. Your look told me you would wait any amount of time for the answer. You made eye contact longer than the comfort level. You loved this game. You enjoyed long eye glances because you could see where the truth in me lived. And I allowed you to see my truth without hesitation, because I knew you could handle it.



I took two moments for myself. One, to love you fiercely. How desperately you wanted to be a good man! "A team," is how you described it once, "yes, a man and a woman standing together, balanced and beautiful." You weren't trying to be manipulative or suave. You really cared. I remember explaining who you were to my cynical girlfriends.

"Men like that are taken, or just don't exist." I shuttered to imagine what life in their world was like. It's a world where women are better than men... an imbalance where a woman continuously searches for her match, but in the end concludes that there just aren't any good men worth her time. And thus she surronds herself with women who feel the same. And together, they delve deeper into their sandpit bitterness.

In my second moment, I loved you softly. You truly believed that I was the woman to tell you the answer to your well intentioned question.



Did I even know the answer? I looked at you a bit nervously. I hid my doubts quickly with a confident smile, closed my eyes and straightened my back like a cross legged yogi. You settled back on your pillow, exhaling and folding your reverant arms. Good call, I thought. The meditation pose is always a good cover... it buys me time to think.



"May I be true," I whispered to myself, feeling a bit more grounded and centered. "...and may I say what you need to hear."

YOU... my heart leapt quietly as I re-adjusted my position on the bed. Several minutes past, and I opened my mouth. Your eyebrows arched higher on your forehead. I didn't know what I was going to say. I began to speak.



"Find out what is important to her," I answered with guru-like confidence, "and then remember it."



I awed at my own stillness. I probably could have said anything. Something like "Honesty and loyalty will serve you well..." Or "Just listen to her..." would have done just fine. By the look on your face, this is what you needed to hear today. You sat up and blinked blindly, searching the ceiling in thought. I watched as you nodded your head slowly. "Yes..." You filed through your experiences, and your ex-girlfriends, your mother, your sister. I felt the freedom to climb down from my temporary pedestal, and steal your pillow. And one of your pears.




After climbing up and through your family tree, you layed down next to me, beaming. Together we looked at the leaf you pinned to your ceiling.

"The leaf."
"Yes, the leaf."

You stretched widely with your arms over your head. I drew in the faintest smell of your body. Like a hunter, like a stalking lion downwind from its prey. I placed the half eaten pear on the desk by your bed.

"Avocados," you whispered.

"Hmm?" I asked.

"Avocados, and blueberries."

I smiled and closed my eyes. Your brought your mouth to my ear. Your voice was low and mysterious.... like a secret.

"Thai food. Passion. Defeating fears. Creativity. Timely responses. Honest relationships. Health. The wholeness of Truth. Pears."


I turned my head to look at you. Your body had swelled with an indescribable, well deserved pride. I cuddled closer to you.



"You remembered."



(Section from a rough draft: I started writing my second novel this year... I've been having a hard time getting into it the past few weeks, so I thought I'd try an experiment of writing for an audience... so, thanks for letting me use you. Don't be too hard on it... it's a rough draft after all.)