Three Stages of Love: Attraction

I panted pleadingly for Alexander to continue his precise maneuvers as he plunged his cock into me, leading me toward an undeniable and celestial orgasm.

“Alexander, look at me,” I begged.

But shadows filled the space where I searched to find his face.

“Alexander, I need to see you. I need to stare into your eyes as you release your orgasm.” But there was no response. Alexander was silent, basically unwilling to fulfill my request. He concentrated on his firm penetration tightening the muscles in his upper thighs, and flexing his ass to thrust harder. The moment was perplexing; I had till now always held Alexander’s stare as we climaxed. Though I felt slighted, I refused to waste this moment of enjoyment because of the silliness that existed in my thoughts.

“Alexander, I’m almost there; please make me cum for you.”

Lifting my head and arms to reach for him…

The orgasm halted!

There was nothing in front of me but darkness and air—an air that filled my lungs with poison and suffocated my heart.

“
Alexander!
” I awoke in a panic, swinging my arms in front of me, feeling the sheets around me for his arms, his torso or his legs—anything that felt like the warm skin that encapsulated his body.

But again, there was nothing.

I felt broken; painful stinging tears streamed my face, and an agonizing ache thumped through my chest. I had dreamt of Alexander yet again. The same exhausting and unsatisfactory dream I’ve had nightly since the day I sent Alexander away—away from my reach, away from my body, and away from my life. It was that dreadful day that now tormented my existence.

I fell back onto my bed, soiling my pillow with the salty remnants of lust and love. I tightened my hold, almost bursting the pillow’s feathery guts as I searched helplessly for solace; but there was no peace to be found.

Three months had passed since I last saw Alexander, and the memories he had left behind were fading with the summer sun. His scent no longer lingered in my bedroom, his face was no longer clear in my memories, and I no longer felt his touch upon my skin and inside the carcass that lay in those sheets. I was hollow—drained of any emotion and desire to search for a light at the end of the tunnel.

I had a plan before him, a life with him, and
nothing
without him.

I tried but was unsuccessful at filling my time with work and tasks that once fed my ego. I had before me a career, a title as vice president, and a hefty raise that could cushion my every whim; but it held no value. I buried my mind with work, purposely tasking myself with impossible projects so that I could avoid the inevitable moments where I was left alone with my misery. I had turned into a blubbering idiot and merely because I fell in love—an emotion that has no rules and no playbook to go by.

So much had changed in so little time. My checklist of goals and plans and ‘to dos’ were trash at this point. I could not manage to remember what my goals
were.
What had I spent the last thirty-two years of life trying to achieve? Where was I going to find satisfaction and contentment now? Would I ever get a second chance at feeling love, lust or, happiness the way I had felt those emotions with Alexander?

All of my friends and family tiptoed around me during the sporadic and brief moments I saw them. The only constant left in my life was Samantha; but her free time had become scarce since having found bliss in Marcus’s arms. The only difference between her and me was that Samantha knew not to let go of her bliss.

Samantha, my personal assistant and best friend, tried to stand strong for me. She eagerly came to console me when she saw the expression of regret creep upon my now emaciated face. She sensed my strengths but knew my weaknesses that much more. Over the years Samantha and I had shared some of the greatest moments; but the moments that now resonated within us were those we had survived. I had shunned Samantha during the demise of my relationship with Alexander, which happened to end at the same time that I lost my dearest friend and sister to a battle with cancer. Those were two of the most gut-wrenching and terrifying moments I had ever endured, and Samantha was always there for me—whether I acknowledged her or not.

I could barely tolerate being around her as much as I used to, and it pained me deeply. She was voraciously in love, and she couldn’t help being illuminated by the emotions that surged through them both. They had no hand in forcing my distance; the more they tried to be there for me, the further I drifted. I wasn’t angry or jealous of their love, but the constant reminder of what I could have had heightened the resentment for my own actions and regrets. Samantha and Marcus tried to be careful not to overdo their personal interactions while in the office, but the passion was glaringly obvious when I was in their presence.

Marcus had done well in his ascension to CEO by being kind, professional, and eager to pull the company to higher levels of success. I would have once taken pleasure in conquering the mergers and acquisitions firms for top slot, but now I couldn’t find gratification in any of my achievements. Marcus had become a friend and close colleague, but his debonair looks and gallant demeanor were constant reminders of Alexander; his presence and mannerisms were so similar it made my skin prickle. Marcus and Alexander still kept in touch; they had been friends and associates for a long time. But I knew never to approach the subject.

A few weeks after Alexander left for LA, Samantha begged me to go shopping with her for a gift for Marcus’s birthday. I finally gave in and agreed to go. The truth was: Samantha was torturing me with loud, obnoxious, pleading rants, so had I not agreed, my ears would have begun to bleed.

We drove to the local mall. On my good days, I would have led Samantha into the city to shop, as shopping in the city is a joy like no other. But today I did very little shopping or browsing, for that matter; for I found no enjoyment in anything in what seemed like ages.

“Samantha, what exactly are you looking to buy Marcus for his birthday? You guys haven’t been together for that long. Are you looking for something extravagant? Give me an idea so I can help move this along.” I could tell that Samantha was becoming annoyed with me, but I couldn’t help wanting to go back in to my safe haven of depression.

“It doesn’t have to be extravagant, but I want it to be personal and special. Look, just be here with me. I know you don’t want to, but I think it will be good to force you to be among the living for a day.” Samantha kept walking around the glass cases that held men’s jewelry and watches.

If she had asked me, I would have personally told her that those types of gifts were given past the mark of a one-year relationship. But she didn’t ask, and I tried so hard to keep my opinion to myself.

“Special? Samantha, you’ve been with him for a minute. Don’t you think you are moving too fast?” But, my opinions were rarely held for too long, and so my diarrhea of the mouth commenced, irrespective of the fact that in my hypocritical summation of her relationship I had failed to take notice that I had had a two-week romance shake up my entire world.

Samantha stopped looking through the glass at the watches and turned to me. She wasn’t angry, but perturbed. “Eva, I know you don’t get this. I know that you think I’m crazy for having fallen for him so quickly, but this is not something either of us are forcing or controlling. It just is.” Samantha locked her arm under mine and put her head of golden strands on my shoulder, “I know it’s been hard for you. I am here for you and have always been. But I need you to be here for me too. Marcus and I
are
in love. I don’t know how it happened so fast or why, and I am too elated by it all to stop and ask myself those questions, because, truthfully, I don’t care how or why.”

If there was any takeaway from Samantha’s speech it was that she was the proof that I had fucked everything up with Alexander. I had done the exact opposite of what she was doing, and in the end, she was happy in love and I was…alone and miserable.

I nodded my head and said very little, but Samantha saw an opening. “Tell me something, Eva. Of all the plans you’ve made and all the successes you’ve achieved, were they all that you had envisioned for yourself and your life?”

I remained silent.

She said, “A tiger lunging for its prey is amazing to watch, but sometimes people just want to cuddle with a cat. You’ve played the tiger for far too long. Aren’t you tired? Don’t you just want to breathe and be happy? Life changes…and you need to learn to change with it. Make a new plan—one that involves Alexander.” And with that she turned her back, walked forward, and resumed her shopping.

After four hours and very little buying, Samantha finally found a gift she liked. The two thousand-dollar watch made by Breil lay on a velvet cloth on the glass counter. It was simple but elegant, with a single diamond above the twelve o’clock mark and a black leather band. Samantha waited for the watch to be engraved, and out of all the things she had said to me throughout the day, the few words she chose for the engraving were what struck me the most. The engraving was to read:
Simply in LOVE.

They were three very simple words with not-so-simple a meaning. Was it possible that I was the only woman who found love scary and trying?
Love is nowhere near simple,
I thought. And as I pondered the phrase, I stared in awe at Samantha as she stood consumed with devotion. And I envied her!

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