I'd like to say after seeing Sofia I felt better, but didn't. I was looking for closure or at the very least to make amends, but didn't foresee she might consider reviving the embers of our romance again.
Her advances actually sickened me and reminded me of Sartre's La Nausée because I realized my conflicted condition was not a mental illness as I was beginning to suspect but a side effect of my trying to come to terms with the meaning of my existence.
Of course, my troubles with women were part of that process. There was always another woman and I was always enmeshed in a love triangle.
Yeah, my bad...but I wasn't nuts, just confused in my thoughts.
I hate the expression, 'moving on'. It's usually code for ghosting someone. I may have done a lot of things wrong but always struggled to try to make them right.
And no, I don't have a victim psychology. I know the way I treated Clare and Quinn was wrong, but I can rehabilitate my friendship with Quinn―unfortunately my failure with Clare is something I'll have to live with for the rest of my life.
One thing I know for sure―Sofia is a closed door and I doubt I'll confront her ghost any more in the dead of night.
There's a soft knock on the door and I open it to Sarah, standing smiling on the porch. She's holding a pink Mandarin takeout bag.
"Hey, glad to see you, but Chinese again?" I laugh.
"Nope," she replied with a mischievous grin, "I have burgers and fries from Harveys, covering two of your essential food groups―you can supply the wine and dessert."
"Come in, I'm famished."
"Poor boy," she mockingly pouted, "didn't Sofia satisfy you?"
I roll my eyes. "Please, don't even go there."
We sit before the fire eating burgers and fries and drinking expensive cab sav. It may not have been elegant dining but I felt relaxed and fulfilled just being with her.
"So, did you get the answers you were seeking from Sofia?" she asked.
"I got closure and a whole lot more. I found out why I felt compelled to stay with her so long. She confessed she hypnotized me and used a post-hypnotic suggestion every time I tried to break away."
"That sounds like something from a horror film." she frowned.
"Oh, it was worse―she was into witchcraft and used a love spell on me, so between being mesmerized and charmed I didn't stand a chance."
"That's your story and you're stuck with it, " she smirked. "You still had free will as far as I'm concerned."
I looked at her face and it was flushed with anger. She was plainly jealous and it made me happy she cared.
"Don't get me wrong. I'm not using what she said to get myself off the hook―I told her that to her face. I was wrong and I regret what happened but take full responsibility."
"So, was there no spark between you still―you didn't feel anything at all?"
"To tell the truth, I actually felt physically ill and just had to get out of there."
"She came onto you, didn't she?"
I nodded.
"I met with Sofia," she confided, "she's very striking―in a bohemian way some men might find attractive."
"She is," I agreed, "but I just couldn't deal with being manipulated by her for so long. There's no way I wanted to be sucked back into that vortex."
"So, you don't like possessive women?"
"Not if I don't want to be possessed, but I like belonging to someone who really cares for me―who brings me food from the four essential food groups and gets jealous if someone tries to steal me from her."
"Wow, that woman sounds devoted. Wonder if such women exist in this day and age."
She looked at me with dark eyes inviting me into her mystery.
And suddenly she was in my arms with no barriers between us, my soul ignoring warnings, not caring if I were covered with paint from her lips.
