Love
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My Boyfriends FriendI met him at the home of Tim, a guy I was dating. He was everything that I was not accustomed to in the men of my small southern town - charming, sophisticated, worldly. He was a New Yorker and had traveled the world. I was a naïve farm girl who was dangerously attracted to his unfamiliar accent and icy blue eyes. I don't remember much about dinner that day because I was seated directly across from him and his eyes were on my face during the entire meal. By the end of the evening, we were walking alone in the orchard while Tim was once again working on his antique Mustang in the garage. "Does he do this every Sunday while you're here?" Ken asked. "Yes," I said, "for the most part he does. I don't mind, though, it's a guy thing." I said it with a smile, thinking all men had to be like that. He didn't smile back. "He should be spending time with you. Otherwise, someone else might." Ken left to return home the next day, but he left a note for me with Tim's sister. It had only his phone number and the words "Please call me collect." I called that night and the first words out of his mouth were, "What took you so long?" As the days wore on, the phone calls with Ken became more and more intense and I felt increasingly guilty. I finally broke up with Tim ... told him my heart was no longer in our relationship and I was seeing someone else. I didn't say whom. He would find out much later. Less than a month after the first phone call I packed up my car and left to spend my first of many weekends with Ken at his mountain cabin. I rented a hotel room, only to check out the next morning with my bed having never been slept in. The night before I had simply fallen into bed with him, shamelessly, without regret. He seemed to master my body, touching me in places and in ways that I had not dreamed of before. He had my heart before I knew it. I spent every other weekend over the next few months with him, most of the time in bed wanting to savor every moment of this ecstasy. Even now, seven years later, I can still recall the smell of Ken's skin, the rough sound of his whisper in the throes of our passion, the feel of the hair on his chest against my cheek as I drifted off to sleep next to him. It ended as quickly as it began. He got tired of the distance and took a lover ... I simply couldn't accept that. He called me the Christmas after I broke up with him and asked to try again. I lied and told him I no longer loved him. I think of him even now, though, for he took my true innocence ... my ability to believe that love can conquer all things. My life has never been the same. angela stallings
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