Illusion is the first of all pleasures.
~ Oscar Wilde

“My God, Otto. It’s breakfast and you are yawning.” Eve exclaimed.

We were sat in the local café at 11 a.m. Between the two of us, we shared a turkey sandwich, a ice blend mocha and an ice latte.

"You know that the guy likes you when he starts calling you at 5 a.m.... trust me..." I said.

"You know you should rest and not entertain these calls."

"Unless it is Adidas Boy.." I quipped.


***
“Hello?” I said.

I rubbed my eyes. My left hand reached out, searching for the bedside lamp in the dark.

Click, the switch lit my bedroom in a soft yellow tone.

“Hello?” I asked again.

“Why?”

The voice was familiar. Over on the other side of the line, I could the sound of bottles falling. I heard him taking deep breaths. He was sniffling. Like me, he was sniffling every morning, victim of Rhinitis.

“Why? Why can’t we be together? Come on, Otto. You can quit your job. I will quit mine. I will break up with my girlfriend and we will move to another city.”

“Baby, you are drunk. You don’t know what you are talking about.” I said.

“I know EXACTLY what I am talking about. We enjoy each other’s company very much, so why can’t we be together?”

All was still in my bedroom. The sound of Adidas Boy kicking some bottles was the only thing that could be heard on the other side of the line. I bit my lips and closed my eyes.

“I love you, Adidas.” I said quietly.

“Then come with me. We will just go away. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. You just don’t want to.”

Adidas Boy started to sob. It was quiet but I could hear his heart breaking.

“You can. You just don’t want to. We’ll be so happy together. I can work in another club, in another city. We will have enough. You are just concerned what your friends and family will think of you. Why don’t you think of YOU! Think of ME!”

There, he said it. Words that we both knew were true. I was afraid. Afraid of what people thought of me and although I enjoyed his company very much, I feared people would not approve of my relationship with him.

Tears welled up slowly, gently rolled down my cheeks. My heart was bleeding and I knew that his heart was bleeding. I could hear him chocking on his secret tears.

Those were Valentine’s tears, falling quietly onto pillows and quietly falling somewhere across town. I wanted so much to hug him, to run away with him and be totally immersed and lost in him.

I drove 10 minutes to his house. In the dark, I could see his silhouette, standing at the door. I opened the gate and walked slowly towards him, into his arms. Like all the other nights before this, he held my hands and guided me to his bedroom, our secret refuge.

We met his mother as we walked towards his bedroom. She was preparing for her daily morning walk. I said “Hello” and we conversed for a few minutes. She knew me from my morning visits to her house.

I climbed into bed with him. We have been silent since my arrival. Quietly I curled into his outstretched right arm. I clung onto him with all my might.

Those were our secret tears on his pillows on Valentine's Day. In his arms, on the bed, in the secret of the room, we lived in cocoon of paradise.

That is, until the sun brings light into the day again.