tagNonHumanKatherine's Story - Eternal Love

Katherine's Story - Eternal Love


Woman finally finds her match made in Heaven.

Her friends thought Katherine was crazy, and that she had money to burn, when she bought a small parcel of land from the city for one million dollars, across the street from her penthouse condominium. No one understood why she paid so much money for such a small and useless piece of land in the middle of the city, land that only had a park bench, a street light, a small pathway, and one lousy Maple tree. On the surface, it didn't make any sense, but she would have paid any amount for this bit of land. It was priceless to her.

Her friends thought her crazy when she spent all of her free time walking her small parcel of land with her dog and sitting alone on the park bench in the moonlight talking and laughing to herself. Years later, her friends thought her crazy when, upon her death, she asked to be buried there in the shade of the Maple tree, where she had buried her dog, years before. Her friends, who thought her crazy, didn't understand why she did the things she did. They just thought that she was eccentric, worked too much and too hard, and needed someone in her life, but she never found anyone. She lived alone, until the day she died. This is Katherine's story.

Katherine had it all, beauty, career, and money, only, she didn't have someone special in her life. She was at that forty-something age where she still had a chance at love and at romance, if she wanted it, and still had a chance at having a baby and a family, if she wanted that, too. Yet, when it came to making personal life decisions that conflicted with her career, never giving herself a break or credit for all that she had already accomplished, she was her own worst enemy. She knew that if she committed to a man now and/or to a baby later, that would be it for her career, her independence, and her do whatever she wanted to do and whenever she wanted to do it lifestyle.

Even if she returned to work after committing to a personal relationship with a husband and a child, it wouldn't be the same. Losing her focus and her edge, she'd be conflicted and distracted. Could she trade everything she worked so hard to build for romance and a man, and for a baby and a family? Could she give up her career for love? On one hand, depending on her priorities, it was a lot to ask her to give up, but on the other hand, she'd receive just as much, if not more, in return. It was a decision that only she could make.

It was, of course, an improbable question to ask and an impossible question to answer, especially now, since she didn't have a man in her life and was not in love and had never been in love. Foremost in her life, her career came first. Now, that she was on top of her field, CEO of her own profitable company, making her own hours and working much of the time from home, her success rang empty without someone there to share it with her.

Those who didn't know her, because of the fact that she didn't have a husband, had never married, and didn't have any special man in her life, thought she may be lesbian. She wasn't lesbian. She was just driven by her work and when she wasn't occupied with that, as would anyone else be, she was lonely. With the old double standard rearing its ugly head, it's funny how men who are driven by work aren't necessarily considered gay, just workaholics.

She had no one to buy those cute and funny greeting cards that she always happened to stumble over and laugh at in the card shop. She had no one to curl up to and spoon with at night and wake up with and look forward to being with the next morning. She had no one to talk to and/or listen to, while sharing morning coffee or an evening nightcap. She had no one to hold her hand, hug her, kiss her, or walk with her through the picturesque park that was just across the street from her home.

She had no one to share a laugh with or to wipe away her tears and to tell her everything would be okay and that he was there for her. Other than a staff of salaried assistants, she had no one there for her. She had no one who, she felt, really cared about her. She had no one to call seven times a day, just to hear his voice, to tell him she missed him, and to hear him tell her that he loved her. She had no one who truly cared about her, in the way that only a lover would and could. She had no one.

For someone who was so classy, cultured, good looking, successful, and educated, one would think that she'd have an army of men surrounding her and wanting her, but she didn't. She was alone and lonely. Preceded by her accomplishments and empowered by her tough veneer and no nonsense reputation, most men shrunk and disappeared in the shadow of her. Most men didn't want to constantly and contently take the back seat to her success, relegating themselves to the number two position.

As most women have become accustomed, complacently accepting their passenger seat role, no man wanted only to be known as Katherine's husband. It took a special and confident, self-assured man in knowing who he is, to love a strong, complicated, and competitive woman, as was Katherine Davis. Opinionated and articulate, she knew who she was and fought for those things she needed in her life that not only maintained her core of strength, power, and influence but also grew it.

For months, since she moved to Boston from New York, sitting by her picture window, while sipping a martini or working from her home office with her coffee getting cold, she watched from afar and envied those people who congregated in the dog park below. They always looked like they were having such a good time with their pets. Walking their dogs, before pairing off to walk the tree lined paths with someone they've met, after having become dog walking companions and having formed dating and/or love relationships, she's even witnessed a wedding or two, held where they first met, at the dog park.

She wished she had someone to enjoy their company, while enjoying nature and the day, as their dogs ran and played and did their business. Lonely enough to take desperate action and hoping to meet a man at, of all places, the dog park, too, she bought a dog, an Afghan hound, she named Ava. As graceful and as elegant as was her dog, she with her tall presence and flowing hair, fashionably expensive, loose fitting clothes and confident walk, and the dog with her handsome lines, flowing, multi-colored hair, and beautiful gait, looking like something from out of a Victorian calendar, such a pretty pair, they looked good together.

She lived alone in the city, high up, in one of those penthouse condominiums that overlooked the dog park. She had become accustomed to the kind of luxury accommodations and personal service accoutrements that had the doorman and the concierge, who knew everyone by name and who saw you coming and going, even when you didn't want them to see you. That's what you tipped them for; to remember you on those days you want to be remembered and to forget you on those days you'd rather be forgotten.

Able to afford a maid and a chef, she had a car at her ready to take her wherever and whenever she needed to go. Yet, she missed the simpler things in life. She couldn't remember when she's gone to see a movie or met a man for a drink. She heard some of the women at her office talking about joining a bowling team and one who's date took her miniature golfing. She'd sometimes wish her life was as simple to allow her to enjoy such things, activities where she didn't have to dress or hire caterers to entertain.

She had tried bars, social functions, business meetings, blind dates, well meaning, matchmaking friends, and even the Internet to meet a man. All she met were married men, dysfunctional men, needy men, mommy's men, men looking for someone to take care of them, drunks, losers, and players. Presently, even the players looked good to her. At least, she knew what they wanted and where she stood with them.

Now, she wondered if she would ever find anyone. Maybe, her standards were set too high. Maybe, she was looking for all the right things but in all the wrong men. Maybe, she should dumb herself down to the man's level. She laughed at the thought of acting like the dumb, sexy blonde. Certainly, she was good looking enough and had the body to pull it off, but the type of man she'd attract wasn't the type of man she'd want for a life partner.

Maybe, she should turn lesbian. She laughed at the thought of being intimate with a woman, instead of a man. Still, at least, the thought of turning lesbian meant that she would never be alone and would always have a loyal community and close knit network of other women, who shared her sexual orientation. Only, she wasn't lesbian. She liked men, too much. She liked the way they looked, how they smelled, the way they talked, how they felt, and how they acted.

Not knowing what she was missing, wishing she had known before, admittedly, the best times of her day and what she looked forward to the most, was when she took Ava to the dog park. Sure, she could have paid someone to walk her dog, but she enjoyed the fresh air, the exercise, and watching her dog interact with other dogs and people. Looking as athletic as an Olympic sprinter, Ava was such a beautiful dog to watch run. Besides, it was a nice break from the tediousness that her work had suddenly become and, after all, while walking her dog and exercising herself, she was hoping to meet someone special.

Why not here? Conveniently, this is where she lived. She lived in an exclusive neighborhood and only those who could afford the address took their dogs here to this particular park. Safe and securely away from those who would judge her success and envy her status, she was comfortably within her own element and surrounded by her own kind, those who were equally as rich and successful.

Then, suddenly, from out of nowhere, there he was, that handsome man she met with Polo, that adorable Rat terrier. Ava was always quick to find Polo. What was his name? Frankie, Jackie, Jimmie, Freddie, that's it, Freddie, his name is Freddie. At least, he had a brain in his head and he likes tits.

More than once, she caught him looking at her ample cleavage, so much so that now, whenever she takes Ava for her walk, she dresses a bit more provocatively to show off her ample and natural attributes. More than once she felt him checking out her curves and sensed the stare of his lustful desire. More than once she flushed with embarrassment, when he caught her checking out him, too.

She wondered what he did for a living that he was out and about during the day. By the way he spoke and how he described things, she figured him for a writer. She wondered if he was attached to anyone. She wondered if he was interested in her. She wondered what he looked like naked in her bed at night and the next morning.

Three times every day, Katherine made sure that she hit the dog park around the same time hoping to serendipitously run into Freddie and Polo. She didn't want to appear obvious in her intentions, but she certainly dressed the part to make her intentions known by making sure that her clothes, hair, and makeup made her look desirable and not desperate. Always, every day, even when she was a little late or a little early, there he was throwing a ball and playing with his dog by the Maple tree or sitting on the park bench enjoying the sunshine or the moonlight, while watching people and their dogs enjoying the park. Just my luck, she laughed to herself, he's probably homeless and lives in the park. If only she knew, she was half right.

She enjoyed and looked forward to his company immensely. Rejecting the modern GQ sort of man, more conservative in his dress and his manner, he was like no one she had ever met before. He was different. In an odd sort of way, he reminded her of her father, even down to his clothes. He had poise, composure, manners, and an old fashioned charming style and genuine sensitivity about him that she liked and that too many of the guys lacked today. He was a gentleman with a wicked good sense of humor that kept her not only laughing but also interested.

He was mature and grounded and had the wise commonsense that comes with age and that she wished others had. When she talked about her work, her career, and her success, he wasn't put off, jealous, or threatened by it. She could tell from their conversations and by his lack of concern and/or knowledge of current events, reality TV, and celebrity gossip, that he didn't watch much television. She remembered he even told her on one occasion he didn't know what television was, which led her to believe that he didn't own a television. She laughed, he was so funny. Who doesn't own a television set today?

She didn't see a ring on his finger. She wondered if he was gay. She figured he was in his early forties. He had sexy hazel eyes and the hint of gray hair at his temples gave him a distinguished appearance that she found so terribly attractive in a man. He looked a bit like George Clooney, but with a softer jaw, only taller and thinner and better looking.

Hands, for some reason, were a major attraction for her and he had nice hands. He had strong hands with manicured nails and muscular forearms that she got to see when he rolled up his sleeves one day to pull Polo out of the bramble, where he had gotten himself entangled, after chasing a squirrel. She imagined his arms around her holding her tight and his hands feeling her and caressing her in all the places she longed to be touched.

It didn't immediately occur to her that he wore the same clothes every day, as it didn't immediately occur to her that she never saw him and his dog outside of the dog park. It didn't immediately occur to her that they were ghosts and haunted the place. Before this was turned into a dog park, killed by a hit and run driver 70 years ago, while crossing the street, this is where they died. It's funny that she never noticed the small plaque that graced the entrance of the park until now.

"We dedicate this dog park to Freddie and his dog, Polo, our dear friends. May they rest in peace."

Devastation hit her as if he had just died today. Sorrow replaced her desire with sadness. How perfect. No wonder she couldn't find her man. He was already dead. Waiting for him to discover her, she didn't mind waiting a little longer, until the time when she was ready to join him forever in eternal love.

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