It’s 2010. I am living in an apartment that I can barely afford. My judgement is clouded by the abrupt end to my marriage. I have always had a strong moral compass, to the point of rigidity. But this time in my life, is not my best. I find myself doing things I shouldn’t be doing. I can’t bring myself to care.

But I do recognize that Anji has her shit too together to get wrapped up in mine. Either later that night (the night of secret family recipe sausage – try to follow along) or the next morning I let her know I am not in a good space and don’t want to pursue a relationship.

In the back of my mind, Chet Baker sings…

Remember that whole, not taking ‘no’ for an answer thing I mentioned? Well, she convinces me to come over. Just to talk. What is with this girl? It feels like a trap. I should definitely not go over there. Except…it would mean a lot to her. I have too much respect for her to blow her off so I do in fact, come over.

Sitting on her front steps I lay out all the reasons this is a terrible idea: our age difference…her height…my messed up still broken heart. It is a warm spring evening – the cherry blossom trees are making a beautiful mess of her front yard. She is regretful but supportive. Not supportive of us not dating – no. Not dating is, to her, a terrible idea. But supportive of me having feelings.

We had both been in long term relationships with people who didn’t share our values, goals, and dreams. Relationships that had become financially one sided. Relationships where the mutual respect had drown in empty promises. Or, if that was too much effort, empty non-committal vocalizations.

Does that sound mean you are going to take care of that essential thing or…?

– Quotes from my first marriage

Neither of us had been in a relationship with our intellectual equals. Someone we not only respected but in fact admired. Someone we felt inspired by. We mused at the advantages of such a match.

If she were only younger, or I older. If she were shorter, or I taller. If she didn’t have a child.

It is not that I don’t like children. I love them. I want a child of my own and the fact that she has a six year old with no thought of having more would be a deal breaker. But aside from that, I didn’t want to love another child I had no rights to. I had fully participated in raising my ex’s son and despite good intentions, splitting him between his divorced parents and an extra parent was certain to be too much at some point. I didn’t want to raise someone else’s child.

Still, I leave that evening feeling like I am making a mistake. But surely this is the right decision. There are too many barriers. And I, am a mess. Still…if I could get my life sorted out… Well, I’ll deal with that if it ever happens.

Two days later, there is a partnership meeting (as there was the first time we met). She is so beautiful. Despite her disappointment, she remains open and confident. I feel her warmth from across the room. I find myself wishing for her company. We are sure to make great friends.

I invite her for coffee that afternoon – as friends. When I arrive she has made me a paper bouquet of flowers. We talk. Every word she says makes me more and more sure – I have got to get my life together. By the time we are saying goodbye I know that even if I have screwed this up beyond repair – if there is still a chance… I have to get it together.

I make some hard decisions that evening. They are also the best decisions I have made in the last few months.

The next morning, I swing by her house for a cup of coffee. She lives only a few blocks from where I work. She hugs me. I linger. She kisses me sweetly.

I realize why this has all seemed too much and yet undeniably right. I was still expecting to date a giggly, vulnerable, and dependent girl (not in an underage way weirdos). But Anji was a woman. Strong, established, admirable, independent and she doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. If I wanted this to work, I was going to need to grow up.