I have never felt so broken. A man who I open up to after heart break who can easily continue to add damage has no heart himself. However, I can’t let him go. I acknowledge that this relationship is most likely the worst I’ve ever been in. I’m more miserable than I am happy. But I can’t let him go. I ache for the times we move in synchronization. I love how we move together. It makes me believe that I love him. In those moments I can’t remember the bad until he gets up, goes to the bathroom, cleans himself, and returns. Hard. Only soft after I snuggle up to him, and it’s easier for him to wrap his arm around me for comfort of the position.

He doesn’t know me. Days before Valentines Day I spend everything I have to make him happy. It’s the only way I can show him how I feel because he doesn’t hear me. I have conditioned myself to not tell him that I love him anymore. If I say it, it slips out. His response is always awkward. He pauses then returns the gesture. No feeling. Robotic. I watch him on his phone engrossed in conversations, laughing in a way I have never made him laugh.

At six o’clock in the morning his phone rings. It’s a ring tone I haven’t heard in a while. It’s a recording of a song he wrote last year that I’ve only heard once before, seemingly seeping through the cracks in the walls at the office as Zora played it over and over. He just got in. He rolls out of my bed and tells me he has to go again. Something to do with a band member needing a ride to the airport. I know it’s not true. It never is. On the nights he chooses to grace me with his presence, I watch him get up earlier than I do to always run some random errand.

I caught him once. Sitting in a cab outside of my job. Of course I thought he was there to see me. When I was about to approach the car I saw that his gaze was locked in another direction. He was staring at her. Watching Zora get her morning bagel from one of the deli carts outside of the station. Her morning routine. I realized that this was also Brent’s morning routine.

Now he’s off to see her again. I can’t object because then I get blamed for being unnecessarily jealous. As far as he is concerned I have no proof. The law rules heavily in our relationship “if there’s no proof, then there is no offense”. I deal with it. I hate him for it, but I say I love you when he leaves. He responds with his back turned to me.

He doesn’t know me. I don’t know me.

“I’ve loved you once, loved you twice, a third time”- Anonymous

I remember there was a time in my life where I wanted to be a wife and mother more than anything. In the span of one year I watched both of those opportunities slip away from me. There are random moments when I remember that the proposal I wanted so badly from Quincy went to someone else. Sometimes I catch myself rubbing my stomach as if the baby I lost after the attempt to take my life in May was still there; still growing.

I didn’t even know I was pregnant. I didn’t know that Brent and I created a life together. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind when I told the doctors I didn’t want the child. I was thinking about my broken heart. I kept telling myself that he was going to leave me like the others. I didn’t want to be reminded of that heart break everyday as I had to raise a child on my own, and share custody with him when he eventually settles down with the family he really wanted.

That memory is haunting me as Leigh has stopped calling and Brent won’t stop. I completely cut him off after I chose Mark at the New Years Eve party last year, and then I found out he was dating Gwen. Except for that one night when I was feeling unsure of where things were going with Mark. One night where I let him hold me, and hum the song he wrote for me in my ear. One night where I let him physically turn any pain I felt into pleasure. When I woke up in the hospital he was sitting next to my bed. Brent slipped in while Mark was preoccupied trying to alert my family. He told the nurse that I was his fiancé. I told the nurse to make him leave. He touched my stomach and I knew instantly what he was trying to tell me. The doctors later confirmed.

I finally looked at my phone to see that Brent had left me several voice messages begging me to call him. There were also two texts. One read “What do you want to do?” the other said “Don’t hate me”. That’s all I needed to see. As far I as I was concerned he didn’t want the baby because he didn’t see a future with me. A couple of hours before I found out about the child, I no longer wanted a future for me.

Now two months into this new year, I’m in a familiar place. Losing myself in the mess I created in the pursuit to feel loved by some guy. I swear men can sniff out when I’m single. As soon as one leaves another one is ready to step in and I always clear the way. What’s worse is that I seem to have a revolving door for my exes. I move on so quickly that I lost count of who is a rebound. For a while we bounce around together in perfect synchronization hitting the ground and being held firmly. Then the simplest distraction causes the ball to be stolen. A shot is taken by the opposing team. Sometimes they score and all I could think about is how I had control of the ball a couple of seconds before. A whistle is blown and the ball is back in my possession. I take a deep breath and return Brent’s call.

“Hello,” he said sounding hoarse. It was six o’clock in the morning. He probably fell asleep about an hour ago. His band was playing the late night set at the jazz bar the night before.

I closed my eyes, grabbed my stomach and whispered, “Come over”.

We are afraid to care too much for fear that the other person does not care at all. – Unknown

 I could feel him following me to the refreshments table. I never liked the meetings but the cupcakes Dr. Rae brought every week were almost heavenly. I reached for the last peanut butter filled chocolate cupcake when a hand from behind grabbed it. I didn’t turn around. I knew it was Leigh. I noticed a letter “E” tattooed on the dark side of his hand in a fancy cursive font.

I wasn’t in the mood to fight with anyone, so I proceeded to reach for my second favorite the lemon cupcake. Once again, Leigh beat me to it. I turned to leave the building without any eye contact but sure enough I heard foot steps running behind me.

He finally said “Why are you so mousy?”

I was absolutely insulted. Granted I was wearing an old college t-shirt, denim shorts and my favorite and worn out Chuck Taylor sneakers. My fro was a bit untamed but still presentable and I had no make up on to speak off. But I wanted to smack him for making such a comment. As soon as I had the thought I turned around with an open hand hoping to make contact with that sculpted jaw of his but he caught my hand.

He was about a foot taller than me and my aim was way off. I most likely would have hit him on his chest. He had a firm grip on my hand and somehow turned my intended strike into a hand shake. When he turned over my hand he caught a glimpse of the scars healing on my wrist I got a better look at his “E” tattoo. We silently acknowledged each other’s scars.

“What I meant to ask was why are you so quiet?” Leigh said.

I felt a little embarrassed for attempting to hit a stranger who just chose the wrong words to ask me a question.

“I’m not quiet, I just observe”, I finally responded after a long awkward silence.

“Well I poured my heart out in there. I think it’s only fair that you do the same. Tell me why a woman like you ended up in a place like this.”

“That’s none of your business”, I snapped.

“I thought we connected for minute after I finished sharing with the group. I thought that maybe you understood or had a similar experience. Aren’t we all supposed to be here to help each other?”

He began to walk back into the meeting room. I was going to let him go but I found myself chasing after him.

He stopped and turned to face me.

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to be rude. My name is Zora.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Zora.”

“I know a place with even better cupcakes than the ones I stole from you earlier. It’s located a couple of blocks from here in the village. Care to join me?”

That was the beginning of a now six month affair that we often refer to as a relationship when we have disagreements. That day he somehow got me to tell him everything I had been through. I recalled my past with Quincy, Brent, and Mark. I didn’t need to go further in the past because all of the outcomes were the same. He understood. He admitted that he had some relationship patterns as well that always led him to the same solitary place of heartbreak.

He told me that he made a pledge to be different. He promised himself that he would never say he loved another woman until he was absolutely sure he meant it. Within one month we were using the L word to express our feelings towards each other. This usually accompanied talk of what our lives would be like together if we decided to settle down and buy a house outside of the city. Spending time with him was better than therapy though it was therapeutic.

I felt like I was getting back to myself. Leigh was also starting to get back to his first love writing. He sent in a draft of a novel he started after the break up with Emma to a small publishing house and they were interested in partnering with him on his first novel. I even began to open up in the meetings. It was weird to talk about my failed relationships in front of the man I was starting a new relationship with. Our first fight was because I felt like he was still in love in Emma, and he thought I was still in love with Quincy.

I knew I didn’t have any feelings for Quincy anymore. I saw him regularly at the radio station. He came in every weekend to do his own show. I was able to talk to him like an old friend. He had a baby and a wife now. I had accepted that I had no place in his life anymore. However, there were times that I would catch Leigh in deep thought rubbing the tattoo on his hand that he got as a representation of Emma. The flowers, love letters, and short stories he spoke of giving to Emma I have still yet to receive. When I bring it up his reasoning is that he did those things because he was trying to be the perfect boyfriend. That bothered me because I was doing everything I could to be the perfect girlfriend for him I thought it made sense that he would in return try to be the perfect boyfriend for me.

Things got worse when I realized the small publishing firm belonged to Emma. She was representing his new book and they had to have several meetings to go over the details. He assured me that it was all business, she had a new man in her life and that I had nothing to worry about because they could never be together again.

Going to the group meetings became harder because I was consumed by a new heartbreak that I couldn’t discuss because it was sitting across from me in the circle. I couldn’t discuss it with Dr. Rae because it was an unspoken rule to not date anyone in the group. Actually, it was suggested as a part of treatment that we shouldn’t date anyone until we had a better understanding of why our other relationships ended the way they did and how we let it affect us. So I held it all in, and began to go through all of the emotions that led me here. I needed a rehab for my rehab.

Last night he left my apartment at midnight because he claimed he had to send in his revisions by Monday and he needed to be in his own space to write. I could not argue with his need to get his work done. At 12:35am a text message notification chimed on my phone. It was a text from Leigh.

“I’m outside. Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t help but think about you all day. Open the door E”

That message was obviously not meant for me.

Thirteen days until Christmas. Nineteen days until the clock strikes twelve and people scream excitedly because they think that a new year on the calendar means they can magically start a new life. Last year I made a decision at the stroke of midnight to choose to be with Mark, who happened to be the close friend and band mate of Brent, the man I was dating. I walked away from one man to the other without much thought just pure adrenaline. At the time I thought I was following my heart.

 As the months passed by I knew that my heart had nothing to do with my decision. This wasn’t about love. It was about making what I thought was a safe choice. Brent was everything I thought I wanted until I caught him on a date with someone else. Mark showed up like my knight when my heart was at weakest to show me he could be better than his friend. Agreeing to start a relationship with me though I was still seeing his friend. Agreeing to be in the background until I made a decision, but then forcing my hand that faithful night. The night that changed everything. Before I knew it I was going through the motions. Happy because I had no real reason to be sad, but still unsure. Still empty.

I thought about Brent from time to time but only in the context of “what if”. Either way I didn’t see an outcome any different then where things are today, right now. In bed, alone, listening to the rain pour. In other apartments there were probably couples cuddled up, using the weather as an excuse to stay in under the covers. I on the other hand, was using the rain as an excuse to miss the meetings I was mandated to attend after my “incident” in May.

I made a few bad choices with men. I own up to that. I always gave more love than I received. I own up to that too. I let the actions of the men I was with determine whether or not I was going to have a good or bad day. It’s true. My decision to try to leave it all behind was drastic. I know. However, I didn’t see how being forced to sit in a room week after week with people who claim to have lost everything because of their obsession with love was going to help me.

 It was all so depressing. Listening to these people talking about the men and women they loved who didn’t love them back. It was the story of my life and I didn’t enjoy reliving it every seven days. This was not therapy. It was torture. On top of everything else, he was there.

His name was Leigh. I sat silent in those meetings for weeks trying to block out the stories the other attendees told. I was trying to serve my time until I was deemed healthy enough to love on my own by Dr. Rae. Leigh walked in on the day the seasons changed. It was summer, the season of flings that would rival the actual temperature. He stumbled in apologizing for being late in his rough British accent.  He took a seat right next to Dr. Rae and right across from me in the circle.

It was my turn to speak. I passed as usual and Dr. Rea gave me her usual disappointed glare. Leigh volunteered to share his story with the group. Though I tried to resist I was very interested in knowing how a fine man like him ended up in a meeting like this. How could any woman decide that a face and body like his was not worth loving? How could any woman not submit to any word he said in that commanding and sinuous accent?

He looked over at Dr. Rae who pat him on the knee and gestured for him to begin sharing with the group. I watched him closely as his deep brown eyes seemed to turn black as he was about to relive his own losing battle with love. I saw his sculpted jaw and his perfect white teeth clench as he was fighting against saying the words.

 “Good day everyone, my name is Leigh and I’m addicted to love” he said.

 The group answered him in their signature way, all at once “Hi Leigh”. 

He told us about a woman named Emma that he met two summers ago when he first moved here from England. She was a fellow editor at the publishing firm he was working for. He wanted to be a writer but wasn’t sure if he lacked the focus or the confidence to finish and publish his own work. So, he opted to work in a place where he would be surrounded by authors and he could either be inspired or lead them in the right direction. He and Emma were partnered to work with an author who had a successful book that was like a modern day Romeo and Juliet with a twist. The first book was picked up for a movie so the following books in the series could not disappoint.

 Long nights in the office reading over the tale of two people who loved each other despite the obstacles in their way and who would do anything to be together, eventually turned into a real life story of love with no obstacles in Leigh’s eyes. He was deeply in love with Emma. He supported her dream of owning her own publishing company one day. He sent her flowers because it was Wednesday. He wrote poems and short stories dedicated to her. Soon Emma had enough clients to leave the firm and Leigh was asked by the author he was working  with to accompany her 3,000 miles away on the set of the movie her first book was being turned into.

Through months of separation he called her everyday. He sent her letters as well. He claimed to be a better writer than he was speaker, and he was always inspired to write at sunset when the sky’s color would change into burnt orange tint that reminded him of her skin.

After three months Emma stopped sending him letters and she started to become too busy to answer his calls blaming her absence on trying to take care of her new company. When fewer phone conversations turned into outright silence and an open ticket he sent her to visit him was still unused he abruptly left the movie production to go see her.

 At 3am he stood on her doorstep with flowers in hand.  At 4:30am he was in a jail cell for beating up the man who answered Emma’s door. She said he loved her too much and she couldn’t take it anymore. The charges were dropped against Leigh but Emma threatened to request a restraining order if he didn’t just accept that they weren’t meant to be. He left her alone as requested but the following year led to woman after woman coming into his life that couldn’t fulfill him. They didn’t love him the way he wanted them to. He couldn’t focus on work and was eventually let go. He made enough money to sustain his lifestyle so he opted to sit in his apartment with no contact to the outside world until his twin brother Aaron made him come to this meeting.

 I felt for him. Women dreamed of a man who would show that amount of devotion and that Emma girl just threw it all away. I took a deep breathe and sighed loudly. I thought “Why don’t I ever meet men like that; Men who love deeply and loyally”. I pictured myself as Emma and wondered what it would have been like to have Leigh, to love Leigh.

 The meeting was called to  a close. I locked eyes with Leigh and tried to communicate that I was sympathetic to his story. I never reached out to any one at any of these meetings but he was different.

I didn’t respond.

“Mark?” She continued to prod.

“Brent?”

No response.

“Quincy?”

I flinched but still no verbal response.

“Do you think Quincy never loved you?”

I wanted to slap her. She was pushing my buttons. I thought therapists were supposed to listen and then repeat everything you say until the hour was up. This woman was provoking me to flip over her desk and tell her to go hell.

I didn’t want to be here. I looked down at the bandages on my wrists. I would always have the scars to remind me of my failed attempt to leave this awful earth. Technically I was almost gone until Mark burst into my bathroom.

Those three words he uttered put me over the edge. I laid there happy at first but that soon turned into deep sadness. Before I knew it I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I left the bed as calmly as possible. Closed the door behind me and looked at myself in the mirror for what felt like hours. I didn’t look like a woman in love. I didn’t look like a woman any man could love.

The simple thought of love literally turned my stomach. Hunched over my toilet seat thoughts of each time I heard those words swirled around in my mind. All of them so effortlessly told me how much they loved me and none of them are here. One by one they made promises and talked about our possible futures. Each of them became fixtures in my life but I realized when it was too late that they viewed me as disposable.

I never knew what it was that made them all capable of falling in love with me but not capable of actually loving me. I ran the water in my tub, poured in some bubbles, and picked up my razor.

I didn’t feel like waiting around for Mark or the next guy in my life to find whatever flaw I had that made all of the others lie to me and eventually leave me.

Love is the biggest lie ever told. It does not exist. Yes I said it, and I mean it. Tolerance exists, infatuation exists, and lust exists. I put my life in the metaphorical hands of this so called love. I should have been dead a long time ago. But it’s all a big joke because I’m still here. Love is not going to save me. With so much hurt and pain in this world you would think that there has to be a positive energy counteracting the negative emotions.

I watched the big clock tick slowly over Dr. Raye’s head. I had five more minutes of this session. I had countless sessions left until she felt I was well enough. I’m not crazy. I’m a realist. I know now what I should have known from the beginning. Like I said love does not exist, therefore there’s no real purpose. The only truth I have left is that there is no beginning or end for me. So I’m stuck here in purgatory.

I watched the blood drip from my wrists and mix in with the bubbles surrounding me in the tub. It was like a scene I saw in a movie. It seemed fast for the girl on screen. After the actress sliced her wrist once with a mirror she broke out of anger, she began to fade away. I wasn’t fading. My wrists were on fire and the blood wouldn’t stop. I felt nauseous from the sight of the blood. I was praying that I would faint and the pain would stop. Mostly I was praying I didn’t wake up.

I wouldn’t categorize myself as suicidal. In my opinion people who declare their suicidal thoughts were just crying out for help. I had no intentions of having an intervention. I’m a planner by nature but as soon as the thought crossed my mind I grabbed the sharpest item I could find in my bathroom. It was the right thing to do. My entire life has been comprised of actions and reactions to love. The love I wanted so desperately to feel and the love I always gave away so easily. Now that I have reached the conclusion that love does not exist I can no longer be a part of this life.

My vision finally started to blur. My heartbeat slowed. I lay my head on the side of the tub and awaited the inevitable.

I have heard the words so many times. In fact I could hear the insincerity before he finished his sentence. Mark may not know he doesn’t fully mean what he said. I refuse to count his words as feelings from the heart, when what we just did was mainly out of lust. I wanted it just as bad as he did. We definitely shared passionate moments. But it’s not the first time I heard those words right after sex. I guess I have that effect on men.

I could hear the fear in his voice as he uttered those words. In my experience the fear in a man’s voice when he is expressing his feelings are a clear indication of the doubt he has. This will ultimately lead to what grown men commonly refer to as mistakes. Eventually, I just find myself shocked and confused as to how someone could love me but not regard my feelings at all while they are having relationships with other women.

If that’s the way of the world, I don’t think I belong here.

Men marry to make an end; women to make a beginning.- Alexis Dupov

 Marriage is a sham. People fight and lose the battle of temptation during courtship. They lie and cheat, and doubt their commitments but somehow a man decides to go out and get a ring whether by pressure or obligation; somehow the woman forgets about her doubts and the stress she felt in that relationship when the ring box opens. He gives her that ring while internally promising to be the kind of man that she wants. She accepts the ring hoping that possibly her new fiancé is on the same page. In the moment of engagement a man may feel empowered by stepping up to the plate and a woman may feel relieved. They both feel hopeful. I know I did.

 Months flew by. The planning was easy. She always knew what she wanted, and I knew that I wanted to make her happy. On our wedding day I looked at my soon to be wife seconds before I said I do, and thought for a quick moment that maybe I was lying to our families and to God. I didn’t feel ready to fulfill those promises but I was determined to try. We should agree to our vows by saying I’ll Try instead of I Do because in the end all we as humans can do is try. I did try.

 Divorces happen for several reasons. Mine happened because after the wedding there was an expectation for me to be more than I was. In the beginning of our four year relationship I did the romantic things I knew would make her smile. I rekindled those gestures in the beginning of my marriage. I liked the safety I felt. My wife was a wonderful woman. Our only fights were about her suspicions of me. She had a right to be suspicious. I’ll admit I had my moments where a friendly invite to my favorite bar hangout turned into sharing feelings of what could be if I wasn’t married. Some of those friends let me find out the type of woman they could be for me if I was available to be their man. I always came home though, and as much as I tried to lay blame, it wasn’t my wife’s fault.

 I had bouts with unfaithfulness before our marriage. She could never prove it so her fighting words fell on deaf ears. I asked her to marry me because I wanted to be better. But, eventually, I reached a point where I was unfulfilled. I meant the lovey dovey sentiments shared with my wife in the moment that they were said. However, those moments weren’t enough to stop me from seeing other friends from time to time, and engaging them in conversations that could lead to sexual situations if they let me get that far. There came a moment when I felt like I was just pacifying my wife. The realization that I couldn’t live up to those promises made me feel depressed.

 I wanted our marriage to last because I felt that she deserved it. I didn’t think I was capable of giving her what I promised. I was feeling frustrated because I was trying too hard. I looked at the people we knew that were married for several years and in my opinion none of them were happy. I wanted the simple fact that I loved her to be enough, but I think that love is simply the beginning of the end.

 It has been four months since Zora and I started to openly see each other. I held her last night after we slept together for the first time and I told her that I loved her.

“Many a heart is caught in the rebound”- Unknown

I laid on his chest listening to his heartbeat. My breathing fell into sync with his. I was drifting to sleep and then he took a sudden deep breath that threw off the previous soothing rhythm.

“You are a wonderful woman,” he mumbled.

I didn’t answer him at first. I had to admit that maybe I was numb. This man always said the right things though we have only known each other for a short while. Our relationship went in a physical direction before I knew his last name. We got together after the woman he was falling for rejected him. I was there to comfort him. We agreed that there was a connection and began to see each other. I knew his heart wasn’t fully healed but neither was mine.

After my most major heart break I threw myself into the dating scene. I’ve had mostly negative experiences with love. Up until recently I had a membership to every dating website that promised to find me a husband. I went to local mixers; I even joined churches that had lively singles nights. I always ended up with the wrong guy.

I have always been the nice girl. I was guarded due to bad experiences but I would come across these men who knew how to break down my wall. As soon as I fell for them they seemed to lose interest in me. I am not desperate by any means, however, I had reached a point where I lost faith in my ability to judge whether a man was being genuine about his intentions. No matter what I did, I wasn’t enough for any of them. They always fell into questionable situations with other women while telling me how wonderful I was.

I want to believe that this situation is different despite the way we got together. At times I wonder if he still thinks of her. I wonder if she decided to change her mind if he would run back to her. I tried not to compare myself to her. I only knew the bits of their relationship she let me in on. He told her she was wonderful too. I tried to push the thoughts out of my mind surrounding how things would be if she never rejected him. She could be here lying on his chest right now.

He sensed my distance and sat up in the bed.

“Gwen, are you okay,” he asked.

I nodded, and smiled as he kissed each one of my fingers.

“You are wonderful too Brent,” I replied.

I know that dating Brent after Zora was not ideal or admirable by many standards. I still can’t get over how Zora let me go to the New Years Eve party with Mark knowing that I never had a chance because he was into her. She made her choice. Brent was a free man now and I deserve my happiness too.

“CIRCUS noun. A place where horses, ponies and elephants are permitted to see men, women and children acting the fool.” ~ Ambrose Bierce

I ignored Brent for a week after that incident in the jazz club. He left me tons of messages on my cell phone, home phone, and work phone. I received exotic packages with trinkets from countries I never dreamed of visiting. I decided to give him another chance after receiving a CD with an original song he had written called “Z”. I listened to the complex melody while I read the note that was attached.

Zora,

 I know you are still upset with me. I wrote this song because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I called it “Z” because the letter is so final, so exotic. It is the beginning of only a few words in the English language, which speaks to its exclusivity. I pursued you after we met because I could envision my final days with you. I know it seems like I forgot that for a second… but I will do anything to make it up to you… anything. Just like the alphabet I’m incomplete without my “Z”ora.  

 The letter was sweet but I wondered if the name of the girl he was with that night began with an “A” if he would have wrote her a similar note explaining how she was the beginning of the rest of his life or some other cliché metaphor.

His actions were enough to make me question the type of man he was. I found myself dissecting everything he ever said to me as well as the small gestures he made. Kissing each one of my fingers was a trademark for him because he did it to the girl in the red dress. Sending me packages could be one of his other tactics because he could obviously afford to woo women that way. His touches and kisses were losing some meaning for me but he was attentive and creative. He was either a really savvy playboy or he might actually get me to some degree. Not to mention that after a month of seeing each other regularly there was no pressure to become more seriously intimate.

However, in the end, I felt like I couldn’t completely judge him anymore for his actions because my behavior was no different than his these days. After receiving the song from Brent I decided to go down to the jazz club to accept his apology in person. The club wasn’t officially open for business yet. The band members were tuning up their instruments while the waitresses wiped down the tables. I didn’t see Brent anywhere so I had a seat at the bar to wait for him.

“Hello.” 

A deep voice came from behind me. I suppressed my smile because I didn’t want Brent to think I forgave him too easily and swung around to return his greeting. I was surprised to see Mark standing there, but strangely I was not disappointed.  I never returned his call the night that I saw Brent with that other girl. I played his short message several times trying to read between the lines. I decided it was a sweet and tempting offer that I had to say no to. I felt like his eyes were piercing me. I never noticed the gray tint in them or the slight dimple on his left cheep when he smiled. My composed business expression was fading and I was forced to look away.

“Hello.” I finally managed to answer.

“Am I making you nervous?”

I realized I was tapping my leg. It was way too fast for me to disguise it as following the beat of the song the drummer and bassist played.

“Oh no, I’m sorry. Is Brent coming in tonight?”

“He should be on his way,” he responded. His eyes narrowed causing his face to wrinkle into a slightly perplexed expression.

I nodded my head and turned back around to face the bar.

“I’ll take that as a no to my offer.”

I turned back around to face him, not really knowing how to let him down. I wanted to accept his offer. In fact since I stored his number into my cell phone it has been burning a hole in my bag.  I just wasn’t the type of girl who dated more than one guy at a time.

“Perhaps we should have this conversation elsewhere.” Mark said as he looked at the bartender who seemed engaged in our awkward exchange.

“I don’t think we have much to discuss”

“Humor me.”

I walked to the back of the club with Mark. My feet felt like they were dragging against the hardwood floor. He ushered me into the coat check area and looked to make sure no one saw us enter the room before closing the door behind him.

The air was thick. I found it hard to form the words I needed to say to let Mark know that though I was beyond flattered by his unexpected invitation to hangout, I was deciding to work out the situation with Brent.

I never got to say those words. Brent opened his mouth probably to convince me to change my mind and I kissed him. He kissed me back urgently crushing my body against the wall in the tight space. He was more aggressive than any other man I ever kissed. Soft moans escaped from my throat to match his low grunts though he was barely touching me. Hangers crashed loudly to the floor along with some scattered coat check numbers. Someone knocked on the door, which made us freeze in our entangled position.

“Is anyone in there?”

“Francine, it’s me. I thought I left my scarf in here the other night. I’ll be right out. Can you do me a favor and check the lost and found behind the bar.”

“Sure,” she answered with a hint of skepticism in her voice.

“This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea.” I started to mumble to myself trying to wrap my head around what I just did.

“Umm… I have a different opinion,” he said while biting his lip, which made me want to bite on his lip.

 I shook my head furiously to get rid of the last thought I had. I wished that time was like an Etch a Sketch so that I could shake it and erase the last few moments. It was a bad idea. I knew that my actions would lead Mark on but a small part of me did not want to let go of that invisible leash. I started to rationalize the situation, reminding myself of my original thought when I wrote down Mark’s number that night. I was competing for Brent without my knowledge, and until we decided to be exclusive I would continue to compete for him with God knows how many women who could be seeing.

There were no guarantees in love and I refused to continue to put all my energy into one person until I was assured that he was putting the same amount of energy into me. People went on dates all the time. I always limited myself and thought too far ahead into a future that wasn’t even materializing in the mind of my past partners. I didn’t know Mark at all. I had no reason to choose him other than pure attraction. Kissing Mark was an irrational move, and though I was prone to compulsive actions with men this was definitely out of my character. I liked Brent but I was definitely intrigued by Mark.

Mark waited as I tried to straighten out my thoughts. As I reached the decision to just ignore the flashing warning signs surrounding this situation my face relaxed and Mark seemed to take his first breath after we were interrupted.

“I have to go finish my sound check. Can we talk about this later?”

Unable to meet his eyes I simply nodded my head and escaped the coat check room without looking back.

A cab was parked in front of the club. Brent was unpacking his instrument and gear out of the trunk. I was reminded of my original reason for showing up to the club and felt a twinge of guilt. His face lit up when he saw me. There were no words at first. He just hugged me tightly and planted enthusiastic kisses all over my face. I didn’t have to force the smile that I was wearing. It felt good to be back in Brent’s arms.

“I told myself if you didn’t call me tonight I was coming to see you,” he said in between kisses.

“Well I’m here, and I just wanted to tell you that I loved the song.”

“Can we start over?” He pleaded.

“I think we can give it another shot.” I responded trying to appear aloof.

“No more other women, okay?”

“You don’t have to make me any promises. Let’s just see how it goes.”

Usually, the promise of an exclusive relationship would be all I needed to put everything I had into a man. But I wasn’t one hundred percent about Brent right now and there was something about Mark.

“Will you stay for the show? I was going to play the song I wrote for you.”

“No, I have a meeting at the station before my show tomorrow. We can have lunch when I leave work.”

“Okay. I am so sorry Zora. I really am. Thank you for coming down here.”

I got into the cab after Brent finished unloading. He gave me one last kiss before I told the cab driver where to take me. I saw Mark step out of the club and begin to offer Brent a hand with his equipment.

“You seem happy,” Mark said.

“I think Zora and I are back on track. I never got a chance to thank you for trying to call her for me. I appreciate that man.”

My cab pulled off before I could hear anymore of their conversation.

Later that night I was awakened by the sound of my doorbell.

“It’s later.” Mark’s voice sounded smooth over my intercom.

I pressed the buzzer and allowed him to make his way up to my apartment. I did a quick head to toe check in the full length mirror in my hallway and quickly brushed my teeth for good measure.  Seconds later he knocked on my door softly. I gestured for him to come in. He took a seat on my sofa and exhaled deeply.

“You’re still seeing Brent.” He phrased this as a statement rather than a question.

“Yes.”

“You still want to get to know me.” Another statement.

“Yes.”

“I can deal with that, as long as you are honest with me.

“Honest with you?”

Though I didn’t want him to, I thought he was coming here to tell me that he was going to step aside and try to apologize for our encounter earlier that night.

“If at any moment you want to end this you have to tell me. Brent is my friend. I know you should be off limits but I felt something earlier today. It made me think that getting to know each other is worth the risk.”

That night was the beginning of lunches with Brent and late night dinners with Mark. For weeks I went back and forth between Mark and Brent. Kissing both of them and allowing myself to go far enough without breaking my promise to myself. I vowed not to sleep with someone who wasn’t in love with me. Mark was intense and had a direct approach to everything. It was easier being around him because I didn’t feel like a liar. Though Brent and I never stated that we were in a committed relationship I felt like I was a cheater. After all Mark was his friend and band mate.

Nights at the club I watched Brent and Mark play together. Every time Brent cued the band to play “Z” Mark would signal the other bass player to take the lead while he took a break.  When they were on stage together I could feel the tension radiating off of Mark’s body.

With the holidays approaching, the time I spent with both men became more intense. I escaped to my parent’s new home in Georgia during Christmas. Both Brent and Mark made suggestions for getaways and I couldn’t choose. Brent took it in stride as he was getting used to me spending less time with him and taking his advances more lightly. He attributed it to me still needing time to trust him. Mark on the other hand looked at every turned down invitation as a win for Brent.

With my company’s annual New Years Eve party around the corner, I braced to spend the night with Brent because he inadvertently set up Gwen and Mark on a blind date for the evening. According to Brent, Mark seemed to be down a lot lately about a girl he was seeing and he thought hooking him up with Gwen would ease his stress. Mark accepted because in his mind it was a chance to be with me on New Years night.

I prepped Gwen by telling her not to get her hopes up about Mark. Of course she didn’t listen. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that I had been dating both of them. The night of the party Gwen came over to my apartment to get ready. The plan was that Brent and Mark were going to come over for a pre party and then we would head over to my office. I received hopeful glances from Gwen, adoring glances from Brent, and longing glances from Mark all night.

Seconds to midnight before the room erupted into celebratory screams. Brent leaned in to kiss me.

“My mother always said what you are doing when the New Year begins is what you’ll be doing consistently in the New Year. I don’t mind kissing you all year.”

I kissed him back. I felt the passion and sincerity of his last words. If Brent’s mother was right, and the way I felt at that moment was any indication of how I would feel all year, then this would be the year of confusion. I felt Brent’s body shift awkwardly to the left. I opened my eyes to see Mark standing there playfully punching Brent in his side.

“I’m about to head home man. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Mark, why are you leaving so early? I thought you and Gwen were hitting it off.” Brent said while landing a few playful combinations to Mark’s midsection.

I searched Mark’s eyes to see if that was true.  All I saw was the same longing look along with a hint of anger.

“She’s a nice girl. Tell her that I said I’m sorry though. I’m not feeling that well.”

Mark walked away. Brent looked confused for only a minute before returning his attention to me. He was beaming.

“There has been something I have been meaning to ask you.”

Though there were about three proposals in the room in the last fifteen minutes I knew that Brent was not headed in that direction.

“I know we haven’t talked about this Zora, but I want to be with you. I haven’t been with anyone else since that awful night in the club.”

They were the words I wanted to hear a month ago. They were the words I thought were unspoken until I saw him with someone else. But the situation was more complicated now.

“Can you excuse me for a second?” I pushed out of Brent’s embrace and headed towards the ladies room near my office.

I walked towards the woman’s rest room meant for executive employees. The bathroom was usually deserted and I needed a quiet area to clear my mind. Mark was standing at the end of the hall by the water cooler.

“I thought you were leaving.”

“I am. Don’t worry I won’t interrupt your perfect night with Brent. I always understood that I wasn’t your first choice. He gets to have you in the day and I get stolen moments in corners and coat check closets.”

“I’m here now Mark,” I said while I stood on the tips of my toes to kiss him.

“Happy…New…Year.” I managed to say while gasping for air between kisses.

Behind me I heard faint footsteps. I felt Mark’s body become stiff. He gently pushed me away fast enough for me to see Gwen turning the corner and heading back towards the party. I didn’t run after her. Instead I just ran into the ladies room.

I noticed my eyes looked tired and my makeup was smudged. Lipstick was smeared across my cheek. This vision of myself reminded me of a reoccurring dream I was having.

I was under a colorful tent with loud voices surrounding me.  My curly hair seemed to be bigger and brighter. My outfit matched the striped tent all the way down to the oversized shoes on my feet. My hand moved rhythmically. I realized I was juggling. Brent and Mark both bounced easily between one of my hands to the other. As I caught each of them they tried to grab on but I just kept throwing them up into the air. I wasn’t dreaming now but I felt like a clown in the center ring trying to juggle balls and other ridiculous items while Brent balanced on a wire on my right and Mark flew from one side to the other of the trapeze with no net on my left. One of them would eventually fall and I would stop juggling in time to catch the one I wanted.