In 2011, I fell for a man who caused my ridiculous heart to skip a few beats before it settled down into a low sizzle. He was wealthy, well educated and traveled extensively in his position as the owner of a major import-export firm. I tell everyone to this day that, from the first time that I set eyes on him, I was determined to have that man for my very own.
During that spring and summer of 1984, that incredible prey of mine had frequently crossed my paths of travel. Each time that he crossed my path of travel, my heart would go into gymnastics and I would start looking around for an ambulance. I would make up fantasies of hip grinding sex and domestic tranquility. Every romantic movie made me replace the actors with that man and me in artistic poses that are nothing like real life, love or lovemaking.
I researched him in the magazines. I surfed for him on the web, learning from his photos that, while he was of a certain age, he still sported an athletic physique and was decorated with skin the color of a creamy Latte with hints of caramel.
He had Clark Gable eyebrows, high cheekbones, cruel lips, and a high brow. His hair rode his beautifully shaped skull in waves of fine and shiny ebony. He was clearly of high intelligence, but it was his bedroom, slightly shifty eyes that made me swoon with supernatural desire.
After the internet failed to satisfy my burning curiosity, I asked detailed questions of the shopkeepers and clients who lay in his wake. I discovered that he had not only loaded up with financial goodies, he also had an air of mystery and danger about him. Anyone who talked about him seemed to edit their words with care, as if they feared the man.
He had a distant cousin who would who refused to talk until he was "convinced" to answer some questions. I still did not get much more from the estranged cousin than a hint that the man had been sent to an orphanage after his abusive parents died in a suspicious fire. My quarry had served with distinction in Iraq after he was given the choice of the Army or jail. None of his comrades would tell me if they had any contact with him. I suspected that they had contact, but that those were uncomfortable times.