The Story of Two Souls Continued

This tale first began here.

To Anne the really interesting thing about her love affair with Daniel was the manner in which it was born and the speed in which it grew. It was unlooked for and out of the blue. She thought of it as being similar to falling down a deserted mineshaft only to discover that the bottom contained untold riches of gold ore.

She had been hiking in the woods. Lost in thought and enjoying the beauty of the green woodlands she hadn’t noticed that she had stepped onto a semi-deserted trail. It was somewhat overgrown, but not completely obscured and had she taken a moment to look around she would most certainly have recognized it for what it was. But like so many things in life it was initially overlooked and it was only through time that she realized just what had happened.

Because at first Daniel had been nothing but a man to flirt with. It was harmless fun and ever so enjoyable. Daniel saw her first as a woman and then as a mother. How could she not be pleased with the attention from a man who saw her as more than the woman who ran the house and took care of diapers and runny noses.

The beauty of being forced to communicate with words and not sex made it so much sweeter. Daniel had figured out that the real key to wooing a woman and stealing her heart was to get inside her head. It meant not just listening, but hearing what she had to say. She had always recognized that as being important but until Daniel came along she hadn’t realized just how rare and powerful a combination that was.

But for a while she had tried to stuff the feelings back down. She couldn’t conceive of falling in love with someone this way. How could you have such feelings without having met someone. How could you feel like you had always known them when you didn’t even know what they smelled like.

Yet somehow she had fallen. She couldn’t tell you when she had fallen with any certainty, but she could tell you when she had admitted to herself that another man had stolen her heart.

It was the tears, her tears. She didn’t cry over men or for men that was something that she had learned not to do many years before. The conversation had been very personal and very intimate.

Somehow he had picked up on her tears, had managed to recognize that she was quite upset and he had not freaked out. It was quite the opposite. He had comforted her and promised to hold her tight and keep her safe.

She believed his promise and in doing so she freed herself from the shackles with which she had been bound. For the first time in years she was comfortable with being vulnerable in front of someone else and she felt fine.

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