An Open Letter to the Man Who Made Me Feel Again

Amore Mio, you know who you are.

We were never meant to be forever. I knew that going in. In fact, that’s what I liked about you, and ultimately, why I agreed to date you. Before you arrived that night when you spilt my wine then proceeded to ignore me, Rosh leaned over to me and whispered, pointing to your empty seat, “This one’s only here for five weeks.” Having made a decision to not date anyone for one year, you being here for such a short time was actually kind of perfect. I would treat this like an experiment through which I could obtain data on the experience of dating detached. I would date you under the supervision of my American therapist.

By the time you arrived, the wine had begun taking effect, but not so much that I didn’t notice you right away. I was immediately intrigued by your spiky white hair, hipster-looking glasses, and sleeved out arms. I leaned over to Rosh and pronounced, “OH! He is CUTE!” I looked your way several times over the course of dinner, drinking you in drop by drop, but I never saw you glance my way. As the drinks flowed and I became more heady, I didn’t actually realize it was you who spilt my wine. You would later tell me how embarrassed you were about that, and I would say, “Mi amore, I didn’t even know it was you!”

If this was any other time in my life, my world would have spun out of control when I received Rosh’s message telling me that you were interested. I would have been catapulted up to the heavens, and I would have began mapping out our future. Yes, all before the first date. But you didn’t meet a past Lori; a Lori who could bounce back from a broken heart. You met today’s Lori. A girl who had just undergone the most traumatic relationship of her life followed by one of the most epic betrayals. A girl with a heart so broken that it was unrecognizable, and so to protects the slivers of shattered shards, she had to lock up what little was left like Harry Houdini. So this time, I didn’t spiral. I trepidatiously gave Rosh permission to share my contact with you, and I waited. We added one another on WeChat and made a date. Thank you, my love, for moving heaven and Earth to download China’s only communication platform just to be able to connect with me. I know this was not easy for you to do.

Amore mio, nobody in my life has ever loved me as well as you loved me. You asked me out for a walk or a massage. I assumed “massage” was just code for sex, so I chose the walk. I had just learned that afternoon that you barely spoke English. Actually, your English is better than you give yourself credit for, but I didn’t know that at the time, and so, I was curious how we would communicate in person. I can recall that Tuesday night so clearly. I showered NOT listening to love songs because there was no way I was going to fall in love with you. I put on one of my cutest dresses that makes me look playful and innocent, even though I am anything but. I wanted to show you just what an empowered woman I am, so I arrived at The Pit Bar first and had a drink already waiting for you. You walked in looking handsome with this goofy smile on your face. I would come to know that smile well and would eventually understand it to be genuine. I sat across the table and looked at you with all the girl flirt I had in my eyes, while thinking - I’m not going to give this one the chance to fuck me over! But you didn’t see the suspicion that resides in the not so deep recesses of my mind, and why? Because I wear the mask so well.

We went on a romantic walk to see the lights and the bridge and even walked along the river in the park I had been wanting to go to. You took my hand in yours and stopped to kiss me. It was the sweetest first kiss I ever had. Still, given my history with both emotionally unavailable men and my abusive narcissistic stepfather, I felt nothing because my mind continued to scream - He will hurt you. They all do. You never did though. At least not in the five weeks I knew you. Five weeks, amore mio, is not a long time. Would you have hurt me in five months? Maybe. In five years? Almost definitely. It’s the human condition…we hurt those who we love the most.

Ningbo Bund, September 2023

I invited you to stay at my house the following Friday. I would take you up on that massage. You would later tell me how completely shocked you were at my unabashed nudity because when you offered me a massage, you actually just meant a massage. Forgive me, amore. I didn’t know at the time that you were a licensed massage therapist. In my mind I was taking control of the situation so I wouldn’t feel forced into sex. Let me be clear here. You never once forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do. Any experience of feeling forced would have come from my childhood or from the two times in my 20’s when I did not have control over what was happening to my body; when my cries of “No!” were overtaken by their manhood and their “Yes!” So, my being the aggressor is a defensive strategy that protects my sexual autonomy from being taken away. I’m guessing you didn’t know that when you saw my tiny black panties on the floor.

I invited you into the world I was constructing. I invited you to meet my work colleagues and my friends. I invited you to places and activities that were becoming meaningful to me. I was proud of myself when I insisted on going to the Pink Run while you insisted I stay in bed because of the rain. I was even more impressed when, after I refused your pleas, you insisted on coming with me. It would seem that you didn’t want to spend a single second apart from me, and in fact, you pulled such a “Lori move” in the car on the way to the run. You played me a love song. Do you remember? Vivo Per Lei. I still listen to that song to this very day. Amore mio, darei qualsiasi cosa per poter attraversare con te. Please believe me because I need you to know that. Back to our first Saturday together, you hadn’t planned on running a 5K that day, yet there we were with my new Turkish friend, Daisy, racing and walking and talking and laughing. And when it began to rain and you got a little grumpy, I was your sunshine, and you smiled once more.

The completion of the OWOD Pink Run, September 2023, Ningbo, China

I didn’t realize at the time that we would become nearly inseparable. I was actually proud of myself for articulating and maintaining the boundaries that I created in regards to you. You were disappointed that we wouldn’t spend National holiday together; that I insisted on keeping my plans to visit my friend in Xiamen. You were salty that I didn’t invite you to come along. You even got Stefano to confront me at my party. This was my time with my dear friend who I missed very much, and for the first time, I didn’t dump my friend for a man. Why? Because in the end, men in my life come and go while friends like Claire are there for life. We would have our first fight on that trip because ironically, I wasn’t texting you enough. “She doesn’t text enough,” said no one ever about Lori. Usually I am the one with the insatiable appetite for whoever is the object of my obsession. But this time, the tables were turned, and I was the object of yours. You can’t deny it…the 32 Italian loves songs you played for me over the course of our relationship tells me differently.

In truth, for most of our time together, I didn’t really care. You would cry at the very thought of going back to Italy, while I was like - Eh, whatever. You cried on my couch, in my bed, on the train, in the taxi, and even sitting on that lovely patio with your double espresso and my Bailey’s latte with the foam seahorse on top. Most of the time, your tears made me feel uncomfortable. I would often will myself to cry and nothing would come out. I know that sounds cold, but remember where my heart was. I had to have ice in my veins to feel safe. But you. You melted me over the weeks with your goofy smile and your sexy Italian language, in your repeated iteration of “I love you,” and with the little notes you would leave me. In truth, dating you felt like I was dating myself from 20 years ago, and I got a glimpse of what my past boyfriends experienced. In truth, dating you was overwhelming, but it taught me some hard lessons about myself, and it showed me that I was actually beginning to heal many of the wounds that made my heart so shatterable in the first place. I promise you, my love, that I will expand upon the things you taught me in a later piece.

Although at times overwhelming, dating you was also just easy. It didn’t even matter that we had to speak through APPS on our phones. Everything between you and me worked in a way that I have never experienced with another human before, and speaking of new experiences, something happened that I never saw coming. The day came when I took out the key to my guarded heart and began letting you pick up the shattered shards I was so carefully protecting. It was a Saturday morning around 7 am. We needed to catch a train. I was getting ready in a rush. I thought that I had finished, but you stopped me. “Amore mio,” you said. “Wait.” You picked up my comb and my straightener and began gently straightening the back of my hair for the next 30-45 seconds. When you were finished, I gazed at you, frozen, with my eyes wide. I began to tear up. Nobody had ever cared for me in this way, and as it turned out, this was the secret that some how un-Harry Houdini’ed my heart. We left for Shanghai, trying to figure out how to keep this together.

For the next five days, I was all yours. We laughed. We cried. We made love in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to be with you prior. I told you I loved you and actually meant it. If I could have stopped time, I would have. I would exist with you in a timeless, personless world where it was just you and I together. We got tattooed because we are crazy. You and me…we are the same. We had our inside jokes and little laughs…our sideways glances and tender moments. We had everything I ever wanted, and if you had been able to remain here, I have no doubt I would be writing about something else right now. But you couldn’t stay, and I will never forget the look in your eyes or the tears streaming down your face as you waved good-bye from the back of the taxi. I stood in the middle of the street, crying in anguish, until your car made the right turn and you were no longer in sight. I wiped away the tears and said to myself - And just like that, he was gone. I had no idea how I was going to return to my normal life. What even was my normal life? You had entered it while I was constructing. Little did I know that you would be a cornerstone in the new life I was making. But now you’re gone, and I’m left to watch the new season of Ink Master all alone.

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When you met me, I was still quite the broken victim of narcissistic abuse, picking up the pieces of my destroyed life and trying to put them back together in a new city. It might be easy to say that you and I were just bad timing, but that’s not true. You and I would have always been bad timing until I healed, but to do that I needed to learn, love, and let go. I don’t believe I could have done this without you. It was you who made a significant contribution to my healing and you who sacrificed your heart for mine. We weren’t bad timing. You were my angel sent from God to show me that all is not lost in love and that people who love like past me do exist. Although past me was not a healthy Lori, and in fairness, some of what you did and said was absolutely crazy, past Lori also loved her person so fiercely, just like you loved me. For five weeks. Now, because of you, I think that future Lori might have a shot at being that girl again one day.

I have a secret. It’s called The Secret. Because of you, I will believe that I am worthy of the love you have shown me. I will believe that I will find it again one day. I might even believe that the universe may see fit to cross our paths again in the future. I will believe what you said as well - that I was able to awaken your heart which hadn’t loved in nine years. That maybe I was able to offer you some healing from the loss of your marriage. That I showed you that you deserve una ragazza simpatica e una ragazza è non timida. Amore mio, you didn’t know the Lori of the past. You met the Lori of today. Neither of us know who the Lori of tomorrow might be. Forse lei sarà tua moglie. Forse no. Noi lo so. Buuuuuuuut…..I can promise you this: I will always love you from afar. I will always be your friend. Mostly importantly, I will never, ever forget the love that you gave me, and how that love transformed my shattered heart into a bandaged one.

Te amo e mi manchi.

The Captain Rooftop, Shanghai, China, October 2023