Me, You and the Dream.

She was lost in a world, all alone searching her dreams. And he was, surrounded by the crowd but still looking for love. He was forty five, she was sixteen. He was father of a boy and a girl, and she had only dated one guy in her life.They fell in love.

They meet after nine years.


As I wait at the airport for your flight, I think about our unique relationship. And we have nothing in common. Me a “mature” (as in, OLD) man, you a young woman. I’ve lived in the U.S.and Europe almost all my life; this is your first trip outside of Asia. Why would we want to stay in touch … and what could we possibly have to talk about?

Why? Because despite our many differences, we understand each other so well. Superficially we live worlds apart, and yet deep down we seem to have so much in common. Who else would understand why a child’s story about an old tree could bring me to tears? As for the what: Everything, from very general philosophical points to the most personal issues. Sometimes I shudder to think what would happen if you revealed some of the things I’ve told you. The thought is frightening … yet I like to think of it, to remind myself how sure I am of you. I know you care for me; I know it as surely as I know my own daughters care for me. And these secrets we share, it’s like a symbol of our affection, and our trust in each other.

To call you my friend, even my best friend … it seems so inadequate a term. I’ve never had a lot of friends, but I have had, and still have, a few close friends. To say you are closer than any other is true, and yet does not begin to describe how I feel about you. I’ve told you I love you, and that is true; and you’ve said the same to me, and I believe that is true too. Yet I always hesitate a little … “love” between a young woman and a middle-aged man always has the implication of a sexual relationship. Oh, I won’t deny I find you sexy … I remember you were shocked when I first told you that. But you’ve come to understand and accept it. I’ve even told you about some erotic fantasies I had about you at one time.

Your plane must have landed by now. Enough with these idle thoughts … it’s time to look my dear friend. God, I can’t believe how nervous I am! Anxious to see you, of course. But also worried how your visit will go. We’ve talked a lot by phone and Internet, but there you can quit at any time. But now you’ll be stuck with me … what if you find me boring; if I say something to make you angry. And some of our most personal conversations … oh, I love them so much. But do you regret them now that we’ll actually meet? We both went to so much trouble to arrange this, but will it be the end of our friendship? Should we have left it as it was, a kind of virtual friendship …

It’s you! Still on the other side of the security barrier, but you’ll be here in a minute. You haven’t seen me yet; I wave to catch your attention. But I stop … and instead step into a corner where you won’t see me. I feel stupid … I’m hiding from the one person I never hide anything from. But I want to watch you for a while, try to figure out what you’re thinking. Are you worried about meeting me, wishing you hadn’t agreed to it? You do look anxious, but I can’t tell if you’re worried I’m not here … or worried that I am. Okay, this is going beyond stupid now … your out of security, I can’t keep hiding from you. I walk up behind you.

“Hi June!” You spin around, I catch a brief glimpse of a smile on your face, and then you throw your arms around my neck and hug me. I hesitate a moment, feeling everyone is looking at us. A lovely young woman hugging a middle aged man … they must think you’re my daughter, but somehow it doesn’t seem so. And then suddenly I don’t care … the hell with the rest of the world. I wrap my arms around you and hug you back, my worries disappearing as I feel the joy of holding my dearest friend. I don’t know how long we hold each other … a long time, it seems, and yet not long enough. But eventually I pull back, smile, and ask “Well, aren’t you going to say Hi?” You give me a kiss on the cheek, and say “Does that count?” I can only say “Yeah.” This is not the place to say that I wouldn’t trade that innocent kiss from you for the most passionate kiss from anyone else. Someday I hope you’ll understand just how much that kiss did count.

…….

We park at the trailhead. As we collect up our supplies, you continue your lament about the lack of food. As I load up the backpack you ask why do we have to carry so much water, why not take one bottle of water and more snacks. I ignore you for a while, until you stomp your feet and say angrily “I’m not a child! You can’t just ignore me like that”. I smile, and put one arm around you and give you a hug. Let’s try it my way today, I tell you; tomorrow you can decide. You reluctantly agree.

We head off down the trail, walking side by side at first. After a while the trail gets steeper, and in one spot you have trouble climbing up a large rock. I reach down and take your hand to help you up. But when you’re up, you keep my hand in yours. I look at you questioningly for a moment … “Is it okay?” you ask. I smile, and give your hand a squeeze … and thereafter, from time to time we walk hand in hand. Not often: this is a mountain trail, narrow and steep. But what matters is not so much the act, but just knowing it’s okay with you.

It takes you a while to get used to the solitude. You’re a city girl, not used to these huge uninhabited spaces, nobody in sight for hours and hours. But you come to like it. It’s so peaceful and quiet; the only sounds we hear are our footsteps. We talk softly, pointing interesting features out to each other. Bursts of color from flowers, the funny way some of the trees grow, interesting rock formations we see across the canyon. It’s a cool day, but a strenuous hike. We stop often for a sip of water … and I smile as you drink, while you look mildly embarrassed as you come to understand why we brought so much water.

But for the most part we just walk quietly. I love just having you near me. And when the trail is narrow, I try to let you stay in front, so I can watch you. You’re wearing a loose-fitting cotton shirt and cargo pants. A very practical outfit, not at all fashionable. You made a bit of a fuss about that, too … but I insisted. I do want to see you dressed up, a pretty young lady. But not here … I don’t want you getting scratched up by thorny plants, and bitten by too many bugs.

I wonder what you’re thinking. But if I ask you, then I’d have to tell you of my thoughts, too. Not that my thoughts are new, and I doubt you’d find them shocking anymore. But this is the first time we’ve been completely alone, just you and me … it might make you uncomfortable. We can talk in the evening.

Meanwhile, I watch you, and think my thoughts. A skinny young woman, your figure completely lost in the baggy clothes. I think about my older daughter, almost an adult herself now. Much more full-bodied than you, bordering on chubby in fact; but attractive. And my son - though not yet in his teens, already seems to have girls around him. At least I think so. And yet I cannot think of my own kids as grown up. I suspect Nishi has already been enjoying sex, and intellectually I convince myself that’s okay. But deep down I just can’t accept it. I remember so well, and so fondly, the times when I would change their diapers, bath them, cuddle them; scold them, and play with them. And I’m very proud of how well they’re doing, and happy they turned out good looking. I hope , I really do they find a good boy or a girl … but they still remain my little kids. I suspect that will be so even after they have children … I’ll have to think of it as some kind of Immaculate Conception.

With you … it’s the same and yet different. I have many fond memories you, of our chats, even of our arguments. And I’m proud of you, too, hardly less than of my own daughters. But I have few memories of you as a child; I only got to know you as a young woman. The very things that I simply can’t bring myself to think about my daughters, you and I have talked about freely almost from the beginning. I remember the promise you made – and kept! – to not have sex till I said it was okay … God, if Nisha made such a promise, she’d die a virgin! Whereas you I encouraged to experiment, and enjoy before hand. And when it seemed to me Arjyo was mature enough for it to be safe, I didn’t just give you permission, but even to set it up. Which then lead to my fondest memory of all: Your telling about that evening, sharing with me both your nervousness and your ecstasy.

By afternoon your feet are sore. I suggest we stop for lunch soon, then head back. You look disappointed, despite being tired, and say you don’t want to leave so soon. I smile, glad you’re enjoying our hike. But I don’t want to exhaust you. “It doesn’t have to be a quick lunch! We can just sit here and talk … if you want to.” You still look disappointed, but smile and say “Okay.”

We walk on a while more until we come upon a rocky outcropping overlooking the canyon and, way down, the river. You’re a bit afraid looking over the edge at first, but with me holding your hand you do. You stare, mesmerized by the majestic view. In the quiet we can just barely hear the roar of the river. We can see along the canyon for a mile or more in each direction. I hand you the binoculars and point out some odd structures half way up the cliff on the opposite side. You look, and for a while can’t believe what you’re seeing … primitive buildings, relics of inhabitants from a thousand years past. You look around, trying to figure out how they would have gotten up there. I look, too … but eventually we give up. There must be a path, but it’s too well concealed for us. They chose the place well, those ancient people.

I take of my backpack and start taking out our lunch. Fruit and yogurt, and granola bars. You glance over and wrinkle your nose … not your idea of a feast! You look down again, scanning the river with the binoculars. “Jesse!” you call out all of a sudden. I come over, and you point at a sandbar. It has two kayaks pulled up on it, and when you hand me the binoculars I can see there’s a couple down there, also eating lunch. “Can we go there tomorrow?” you ask, your eyes bright with excitement. I look over the river; it’s a long way from any launch point for the kayaks. It won’t be easy … and I know I’ll be exhausted when we have to paddle back upstream. But how can I let you down? I smile, and say yeah, let’s try to do that.

We were pretty sweaty when we got here, but there’s a gentle breeze blowing which has dried us off. We sit down on some rocks and eat. There’s not a lot of food, but after that long walk it’s enough to make us sleepy. We find a large, flat stone, warmed by the sun, and stretch out on it side by side. I ask how Arjyo reacted to your being here. Yes, he knows you’re here … he doesn’t know I’m with you, he thinks you’re hiking on your own. You shrug and say he wasn’t happy about it, but decided was better than you wandering off to Bangkok or something even more crazy. We talk some more about you and Arjyo for a while. As always I try to persuade you to marry him; and you insist you want to wait. I don’t want to start an argument here … so I let that topic drop, and we just lie there quietly for a while.

After a few minutes, you move over, cuddle up to me. I look at you, you look at me, then very deliberately put your head on my shoulder. I put my arm around your shoulder. For a while we’re tense. Then I playfully squeeze your shoulder and jokingly ask, are you trying to seduce me? You lift your head a bit to look at me, and very seriously say no, you just want me to hold you. Then we both relax, just enjoying being together like this.

We talk for a while about the job you’ll be starting in a few days. Seems no matter how grown up you get, I feel the need to give you advice about everything. How to deal with your boss, and the graduate students you’ll work with; what kind of car to get … all kinds of little details. I know you’re tense, a bit scared, of your new position in life. For the first time in your life, you are not a student. We talk about that, too. And we talk about the joys of being in research, of discovering new things. You experienced that already as a grad student, and I know you won’t want to give it up.

After a while, we just lie quietly. A little later I notice you’ve dozed off. You look so peaceful, and so pretty. Maybe most people would not call you beautiful … but if I cared what most people thought, I wouldn’t be here with you. Me cuddled up with a young woman … is there any doubt what they’d think? Would anyone understand my feelings for you? But I do love you, and am happy about it. And I think you are beautiful, and very sexy … and I don’t see anything wrong with that either. I kiss my finger tip, and touch it softly to your lips … that’s as close to kissing your lips as I’m going to get. I softly run my hand over your face, your shoulder, your arm … that’s as close to an intimate caress as I’m going to get. I feel your soft body against me, I feel your warm breath on my neck … that’s as close to making love as we’re going to get. Yes, I feel aroused now, too. Maybe I should feel guilty about that, but I don’t. Often I’ve wished I were younger, so I could court you, maybe persuade you to be my lover, and my wife. But right now, my world seems just perfect. Aroused with no chance of relief, in a relationship that must forever be kept secret, and yet I would change nothing. Lying here in this grand setting, with my dearest friend next to me, a unique woman, for whom I feel a unique love … I’m happy, and at peace with myself.

I wish this moment could last forever … but we have to leave soon or it’ll be dark before we get back. The trail that was so beautiful in daylight will be treacherous at night. I gently wake you up. You open your eyes and look at me, our faces just inches apart. We look at each other a while, and I wonder again what you’re thinking. Are you as happy with me as I am with you? I will never be sure. But if I’ve made you a little happy, if I’ve made your life a bit brighter, I’ll be satisfied. I hope I’ve done that for you.