Anna came over to the house. We played some video games and watched a movie. We snuggled on my twin bed for a little while, and things led to one another and soon it was morning the next day and she was getting her clothes on and getting ready to leave. I loved Anna, at least I think I did. I offered to make her eggs benedict. She decided to stay a while longer. Then she called in for a personal day, much to my delight. We played some more video games, went for a walk in the woods, said hi to a dog. We kissed standing at the edge of a pond with nobody around, and that I think was my favorite moment. She stayed over again that night and the next morning I told her I loved her and that I thought we were meant to be together. “I love spending time with you, and we do seem to fill one another well,” she said. “That’s different than being in love with me though, isn’t it?” I said. I started putting my clothes on. “I didn’t say I didn’t love you,” she said. “You didn’t have to,” I said. “I have to say I’m feeling disappointed right now. I thought for sure you and I were one.” “I’m so sorry for disappointing you,” she said. “I’m not sure you are,” I said. “You’re starting to weird me out,” she said. “Can we just rewind please? “This is where I always cave in and go against myself,” I said. “What are you talking about?” she said. “You are clearly not in the same place I am, about us,” I said. She hugged me and rubbed my head but I wasn’t the same person I was the night before. I just felt heavy and empty at the same time, which is weird because heaviness suggests something is filling you and weighing you down. “I’m sorry I let you down,” she said. “I forgive you, but I don’t know what to do now,” I said. “Do we have to love each other to enjoy each other’s company?” she said. “That’s our problem right there. I don’t just enjoy you, Anna,” I said. “Well, what would you call it?” she said. “Wholeness,” I said. “It’s cliché I know but I feel like we complete one another, create a kind of wholeness that is far beyond enjoyment and desire.” “What happened that changed you from liking me to loving us?” she said. I thought about her question all afternoon, and for weeks after. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and then in my early 40’s it hit me. It was that kiss by the pond. I went back to the same spot to try and see if I could figure things out. It wasn’t the same pond. There was more trash around it, a few used needles in a Ziplock seemed to mock me in the tall grass. Someone had spray painted a neon pink penis across the bridge nearby. The corn fields that stretched beyond had been replaced by condominiums. I’d brought an old picture of us and kissed it by the water’s edge and thought that might lead to something.