I could hear her crying softly. "Everything you said is almost exactly what my parents said. Do you guys have a book of things to say to kids? Do you rehearse these things?"
The anger in her voice was coming out and I knew it was aimed at our circumstance not at me personally. "No honey. It's called loving someone enough to tell the truth even when that truth hurts. I would be proud and honored to spend the rest of my life with you but that wouldn't be fair to you. Perhaps I could give you 20 or 25 years before I die or maybe less. You deserve someone who can look at you and ask you to marry him knowing you will have a family and grow old together. Every time you looked at me you would see an old face staring at you; wrinkles, old eyes, legs that don't walk as well, you deserve more, you deserve better."
"I love you." She said through her crying and ended the call. I put my head down on the table and cried. I hadn't cried since my wife's funeral, but now I was shedding tears. I looked in the mirror across from the table and saw an old face staring back. I hadn't seen that face in over a week, but now it was back. All last week, the wonderful week with her, I had seen myself younger and desirable but now my true reflection was coming back.
T- I hung up the phone and rolled over on my bed burying my face in the pillow crying. I knew he was right, I knew my parents were right, but what we had had was also so right. I had given myself to him, given him my virginity, and had taken from him the knowledge of what making love is all about. I wanted to write to him but this wasn't the time. I knew I would only repeat what I had said on the telephone and I didn't want to say it again. Later that night I undressed and lay naked with my hands roaming my body. They were Don's hands, and they were touching me most wonderfully. I pushed a finger inside myself and it was Don's wonderful cock going inside me. I closed my eyes and I smelled his scent, heard his wonderful moans and felt his lips on my breasts. I had an orgasm and I kissed him goodnight.
For the past week I had enjoyed making love to a beautiful young girl. My cock had been an instrument of pleasure and now there was no music for my instrument. The silence in the house was almost deafening. I could hear her laughter, I could smell her perfume on my pillow, and I could feel her soft skin against my palms. Sleep finally came but throughout the night I rolled to my side hoping she would be there. She wasn't. It was a few weeks later that I received her e-mail.
T- I had been in class but not hearing the instructors or really hearing anyone. I had confided in Ellen and we cried together. She told me I had to move on, forget about Don, and get my head back in school. That night I sat down at the computer and finally found the words I wanted to write.
"Dearest Don. It is difficult to sit here and try to put into words the myriad of feelings going through me. I have been awakened, like Sleeping Beauty, by your kisses, your touches, and your love making. I have cried at my loss, the loss of your kisses, touches, and love making but I, we, have to go on. My mind has replayed what you said a thousand times and each time I cry and each time I know you are right. I should apologize to you, apologize that I dragged you into my life with this internet and apologize for coming to you and making you love me. But I won't because what we had, what you gave me, will be there always. You will always be my first love, my first lover, and my teacher. I will treasure our few days, I will treasure our memories, and I will treasure forever the way you made me feel. I will end by saying I love you and always will, but please understand that this will be my last writing to you and I hope you will not write again to me. I love you Don, I always will."
I didn't write again. I knew if I did I would only write things she didn't need to hear and I would only be pouring out my heart, the heart of an old fool. I had taken a few pictures of us together and I kept them safely tucked away where I could pull them out and bring back fond memories. After a few months I sat down with Evelyn and told her the whole story. She didn't scold or chastise me; she just put her head on my shoulder and her arm around me.
I did meet another lady, a 48 year old widow, and she moved in with me after a year of dating. She found the pictures and asked about them. I told her the whole story; she didn't scold or chastise me; she just put her head on my shoulder and her arm around me.
End
