When Dreams are Calling (17 page)

27
Mistresses and Other Complications

If
you feel you’re growing old,

Not
in the mood because it’s cold,

Getting
grumpy, even frumpy,

Far
too sensitive and jumpy,

It
might be it’s not your year

Or
you just lost someone dear,

Maybe
the stars did not align

And
you were born in the wrong sign.

But,
if you ask me, I would say

You
need LOVE to come your way!

I have always
wondered what is the purpose of a serious relationship, a casual fling,
or a
one-night stand?

Back then, we might not know it, and later we
might not want to
think of it. But I firmly believe that each person who passes through
our life,
in a more or less romantic manner, is a messenger who tries to teach us
something.

Some might teach us how we give, others how to
receive; how to ask
or how to refuse; how to beg for more or how to live in denial, how to
let go
or how to pursue. Some might show us how low we can go, others how high
we can
reach.

The next story is about a bit of all that.

Louis was not another regular guy, but the
owner of the company Jessica
was working for. He was not Caucasian, but Asian, not single, but
married, not her
age, but twenty-five years older, not handsome, but caring, not rich,
but not
too far behind. Not sure which one of those attributes could be the
major theme
of any gossiping, but something tells me all could play an important
part.
However, for her, none mattered too much.

She was not seeing his wrinkles, but his
smiling eyes. She was not
thinking of the age gap between them, but of how happy they were
together.

The fact that he was married and she was his
mistress never made her
feel less worth it.

She never tricked him or seduced him; their
feelings came naturally
and manifested as such.

She came in, because he opened his heart and he
opened it because he
wanted to.

For me, their relationship will always
represent the proof that when
love is genuine, boundaries such as age, position, or marital status do
not
matter. But that was just me.

“The whole thing is a mess. I’m a mess. Or
maybe because I’m a mess,
the whole thing is a mess. He’s my boss,” Jessica said to me between
tears one
beautiful sunny morning.

“He won’t be if you fire him. I mean if he
fires you. Plus, it’s
wonderful for a change. Usually, in any relationship the woman is the
boss.”

“Ha-ha! Fire me? Broken hearted, broke, sure,
why not? Please God,
give me all your blessings.”

“C'mon now. That wouldn’t be too bad. You
could always find another
job. But you might not find one like him. Will he ever get a divorce?”

“A divorce? He’s Chinese. For them, saving face
is all that matters.
They might have changed countries, but the identity of a person doesn’t
stand
in their passport my dear friend, but in their heart.”

“
He
might lose his face, but regain his
peace,” I said gently.

“I once asked him if he didn’t think love is an
untamed creature and
marriage should be its servant, not its master. You know what he said?”

“No.”

“He said, ‘What about duty?’”

“There are dreams, there is love and then comes
duty and they are
all gone. But I guess the question is not what the one in love thinks,
but what
the one left behind feels. For the master likes the cage, but the bird
will
always hate it.”

“His wife doesn’t feel anything. She has no
idea about what is
happening.”

“She doesn’t know or she doesn’t want to know?”

“Who cares? All I care is one thing: I’ll
always remain his
mistress.”

“In life we can all be mistresses, wives,
concubines, or partners,
but what truly matters is if we are loved and love back. The rest is
just a
game of circumstances.”

“It’s hurting me, him and everyone else. I’m
committing a crime, the
biggest I could commit: I’m sabotaging my own happiness. He’s married
and if I were
smart I’d look for a single guy so I can get married too.”

“So, that’s how it goes, does it? First, we
check his marital status
and then all the rest.”

“Yes, every woman who has some decency, some
ethics does that.”

“Aren’t you a bit tough on yourself? I wish
everyone would agree on
what is moral and what is not, on what is right and what is wrong. But
the
irony is, no matter what we’re doing, there will always be someone,
somewhere,
criticizing us or despising us.”

“And the worse is, when that someone is us.”

“If that’s what you think, why not put
an
end to it? You might
not have had a choice when you fell for him, but you do have a choice
now. The
wounds will heal in time, he’ll regain his peace, and maybe you’ll find
the
long lasting love you so much desire.”

“One day I will. But, for now, my heart cannot
let go, not today
and not tomorrow. For now, I am in love. He is in love. We are in love.”

“And the rest…?”

“The rest? I hope they are in love too.”

Despite her light humor, I could feel and see
her torment. There
were no winners. They were both losers, in their own way. The only
winner was
love. And they knew it. Whether they wanted to know it, this was a
different
question. Same as his wife.

For one year, they were together. And every day
of that year they
were happy and also wrecked by guilt. They knew it would end one day,
but each
day they hoped that wouldn’t be the day. They did not live in denial;
they lived
in hope.

But, in the end, the fears conquered, the
preconceptions won, the
still small voice reasoned, and they broke up. The reason was not the
age
difference, but their fear of it. Not his love for his wife, but his
fear of
losing face. Not the lack of affection, but the power of duty. Their
separation
was not an unhappy ending, but simply an inevitable change. It was the
chance they
chose to give to themselves to regain their peace.

Dora’s
Journal Notes

• If love happens
  with whom you wish,
  when you wish, and where you wish, then it might not be love, but
  calculated
  infatuation.
  
• Be ashamed for
  hating someone, not for
  loving someone.
  
• Marriage is not a
  prison, but the house
  of love. When love is gone, the house crumbles and marriage becomes
  obsolete.
  
• There is no
  triangle. In love there are
  always only two people.
  
• Infatuation sees
  the obstacles; love
  sees ways around them.
  
• Divorce is a small
  price to pay for
  having another shot at happiness.
  
• The difference
  between a man and
  a gentleman is that while both want it, the first will ask for it, while
  the
  second will make you ask for it.
  

28
A Rose in Amsterdam

In
search for happiness I went astray

To
learn my lessons, play and pray,

But
here I was time and again,

Her
blood was running through my veins,

And
so, I went to say Hello,

Bongiorno,
Buna or Bonjour,

To
mother Europe: love toujours!

Whenever I
need inspiration
and courage, I travel: for a few days, for a few weeks, for a few
months, for
whatever it takes.

I travel
to confront and forget my old worries,
fears, and even
hopes and forge new ones, to shed my own skin and let a new layer take
over, to
find the answers I am looking for, the path which I lost.

I travel
because when I travel I feel life is
beautiful.

Sometimes
I go far away, to meet cultures
different than my own, to
learn words I can barely pronounce. Other times, I miss home, I miss
Europe.

Europe
is my old friend, my beloved
mother, my
ideal lover. It’s my refuge, my escape from the storms, my place to
rejoice and
to rest.

And now,
after I quit my job and I was unsure
of what I wanted to do
next, it was time for me to pay it a visit. A long three months visit.

Like
always, I did not know if I would find in
Europe whatever
answers I was looking for, but something told me I had to go. Jessica’s
mourning process was also taking a toll on her and so, she decided to
join me
for the first two weeks.

“Wake up,
sleepy head!” Jessica screamed at me.

“Just go
away! I was dreaming.”

“Like it
wouldn’t be enough you dream during
the day, now you have
to dream during the night too! What were you dreaming about?”

“We were
renting a small house with a boat
beside the river in
Giethoorn, the Venice of Holland. After a delicious breakfast in an
open-air
cafe on the shores of the Bosphorus, we went hiking around Lake Como in
Italy, then straight into the Ice Caves in Austria. We spent the
afternoon
swimming and watching the sunset over the wineries in Corniglia, Cinque
Terre,
listening to the loud, lively Italians. We went for lunch in Salzburg
to have a
garlic soup and then to a Parisian fancy cafe which serves a delicious
beef
tartar. We spent the night on a boat in Monaco, and fell asleep
caressed by the
waves crashing on the shore.”

“Wow!
Weren’t we busy? You got the first bit
almost right.”

“What do
you mean?” I said, trying hard to wake
up while my head was
spinning. Then, I saw on the table some cheese with figs and mustard.

“Welcome
to Amsterdam! Welcome to free love, to
avant-garde music
and art, to Cannabis Cup and intriguing sex shops, to red cubicles and
flamboyant women, to narrow canals and gay pride,” Jessica exclaimed
turning on
the twenty-four-seven unlimited porn channel. “We arrived yesterday
morning and
you have slept almost twenty four hours. It must have been the jet lag!
But now
that you’re finally awake, you’d better stay like that! As long as I’m
here, we’ll
have a blast!”

For the
next two weeks, we roamed the streets
of Amsterdam, waking
up before the roosters and collapsing late at night with a new list of must
see places for the following day.

“I know
why all those people are happy here!
It’s the pills!” she
told me one day, happy like a baby finally catching Santa in the act.
 

“The
contraception pills, you mean?” I made fun
of her statement.

“Those
too. But look here, miracle pills!” she
pointed to a store
displaying hundreds of pills colorfully packed. “Wow! That’s a lot of
pills! Let’s
go in! We might need a few!”

“Knowing
which one is the one for us will be
tricky though!”

Holding a
shiny package, Jessica started to
read out loud: “If you
never want to get off the sofa, this is for you!”

“Why someone would
never want
to get off the sofa?”

“I don’t
know. It looks like the pill promotes
a blissful slow
painless death. Not the right one for us. But, look here:
Aquarius,
the
cosmic experience.
Aren’t you an Aquarius? That might explain
your hot
episodes with your Stallion.”

“Guilty as
charged. And if you’re so curious,
just try me. You might
not need this pill after all,” I said laughing at her.

“If I’ll
try you, I’ll definitely not need that
pill over there!”
she laughed back pointing to the contraception shelves.

“But, just
in case I might be too much for you,
you might need a
condom! So, which one should it be? The black cactus with spines all
over for
intense pleasure or itchiness or the daring dragon? Or maybe you fancy
a tiny
mouse for your future husband? The bicycle and the windmill if he is
Dutch, the
pumpkin or the golf ball if he is an American lost in the clouds?” I
asked,
showing her the tons of condoms coming in all kinds of size, shape and
design
to protect the knight for the night.

“Perhaps
the Christmas tree with the elk for
festive occasions or
the romantic heart condom in case he decides to propose to me in the
heat of
the moment?”

“Why not
the one with the clock if he’s married
with his business or
just with someone else?”

“If that’s
the case, I won’t need a condom at
all. Anyway, how could
we possibly know the right size?”

“Put it
this way: if we buy a condom that’s too
small for him, we
chose the right guy. But, if we buy one that’s too big, in this case,
maybe we
should skip the affair altogether.”

“And then,
I’ll have no choice than coming back
to you, for that
Aquarius
cosmic experience.
”

“You got
it! Behind any lesbian stands an
impotent man!”

“Look
here,
How to use a condom: keep
the condom away from the
light and heat
.”

“Why? Will
it melt? What should one do when in
the middle of a poppy
field, in one of those hot summer days when all you need is love? Wait
for
those cold nights of winter and in the meantime keep it in the fridge?”

“Hahaha!
Dora, listen to the next one, it’s
even less enticing:
Don't
have intercourse with a condom for too long
.”

“Define
too long. Plus, we’re usually in no
danger for this to
happen…”

“Unfortunately…
You don’t like Woody Allen’s
movies, right?” Jessica
asked me, suddenly changing the topic.

“No, not
really. I feel either depressed or
stupid after watching any
of them. None of those states of mind are quite a happy ending for me.”

“You might
start to like him more. Read here
what the maestro said: ‘
Is
sex dirty? Only when it’s done right.’
”

“Or with
the shoes on,” I responded.

“Or
another one: ‘
Don't knock
masturbation. It's sex with someone
you love.’
”

“Or you
hate!” I fired back.

“You
really don’t like Woody Allen!”

“I told
you…I dislike with the same passion I
like.”

“Then I’d
better make sure you continue to like
me, Miss Aquarius!”

“You’d
better, Miss Leo!”

On our
last day in Amsterdam, we were walking
back home when we saw a
man in the distance leaving a red rose and an envelope on our doorstep.
Then,
he left in a hurry.

We ran and
full of curiosity and excitement
opened the envelope: “For
Dora, Never give up on love,” signed: Tomás. There was no last name, no
address, no telephone number.

We
followed him to a small café where violins
were playing and
baskets of colorful flowers were hanging by the door. But we were too
late. He
was gone. We lost him.

“Leave a
message for him with the waitress. He
might return. You
never know, he might be your next stallion,” Jessica said, amused of
the whole
thing.

“I don’t
want another stallion!”

“Then tell
him what you want! Tell him he has
to
feel right
with the emphasis on
feel
,” she continued, starting
to moan softly in my
ears.

“You’re a
pain, has anybody told you?”

“And
you’re a hotty disguised as a nun! Do it
and let’s get it over
with! Tomorrow when I’ll go back to Australia, I want to know I left
you in
good hands!”

And so I
did. I left my message to him with the
waitress, just in
case he might return:

“I don’t
just date. I’m looking for my soul
mate. I don’t pamper! I
don’t build and ruin dreams! I am what you see! I think what you hear!
I can’t
stand rogues or clowns! I look for a real man, one who admits his
mistakes and
brags about his achievements, who knows what he wants and is not afraid
to
admit it; who has the courage to love and the strength to leave when
love is
gone!

Come and
meet me! You will either adore me or
hate me! You will
either be sick of me or never tired of me! Let’s plunge together into
the
unknown, and emerge forever victorious! I will take the TGV tomorrow to
Paris. Dora”

And this
is when a new chapter of my life
began.

Dora’s
Journal Notes

• Sometimes, a rose
  on our doorstep seems
  to be all we struggle for.