Breathe
By Vivian Hunter
A picture of a very handsome man. No, beyond handsome. So handsome that I fell in love in an instant. Deep eyes, perfect smile, the bearing of someone who has lived the world. Sport shirt, reliable gray hair, two-day-old beard, 63 years old and owner of a company with an imposing name: Zenith Equipment. He told me he was born in Hungary, studied in England and in 2019 moved to the United States. He was a widower since 2012, his wife died of ovarian cancer. Afterwards, he had a relationship, but he was unfaithful. A wounded man, looking for love. My love.
His written English had a particular air about it, something charmingly imperfect. But, at the time, what did that matter? Each of her messages was pure poetry. "Babe, although distance separates us, my heart beats for you...". So romantic, so devoted, so.... Too good to be true?
He didn't use the dating app to communicate, but sent long emails, digital letters full of promises and confessions. Tender. On WhatsApp, he wrote me every day, called me, but when I tried to make a video call... nothing. He didn't answer. He asked me to download Skype, but, curiously, the video conversation never happened.
