the Ucrainian

The Ukrainian

I met B the first time in a long island small town Mexican café, near the train track. Waited for someone he never met for 45 minutes. Didn’t make any complain, just ordered my drink and said “you are so beautiful”. The comment made me wonder, if he was genuine, or it’s just social spoken.

I have to mention that I’m not that kind of very beautiful outlook. Almost never wear make-up, I’m too plain and simple. My hair and nails are in mess and wearing glasses. But I do know I had a nice tiny body, long straight legs and dimples. Somehow, in late 30s, I’m little luckier than white women as we- Asian- are normally appear younger to western eyes.

This’s kind of handsome man next door with a shy (pretend to be or genuine?) smile must be a real advantage. B was 44 but appeared younger. Kind of quiet, sometimes use words passionately, sometimes carefully choosing every word with caution, using words and story to tell like a real writer, good reader, black bell karate and also a piano player, love horses…
To me, B was very interesting. In addition, I have to say that physically, he is real attractive.
So we date again, and again. We had always had good talk, but his emails and text messages were really what I was always expecting for. Literature is a good way to unveil the writer, at least to me. In his writing, I found a caring warm heart, the loving father. It’s said “read between the lines”, but to get to know the writer, you need to read behind the lines. There, in the back, a tall handsome man with sweet heart, strong but gentle, talents but humble, rich but never show off. What else u expect from a modern man?

The first kiss came in the 3rd date, when we were having lunch in a small restaurant. Just a quick between waitress’s time. The real one came after the meal, on his way taking me to my car. He grabbed me from behind, turned my body around, and started a long, passionate kiss on the lips, like he had been waiting for this moment for forever. I was totally blown away. No more K in mind for an hour.

It’s was a new summer day, with the new hot sun playing our hair, heat the feeling like the one you may just have couple times during your long existence.

What do you expected after the first kiss? You parted, went back home flying. Before I reached open the door, he called, just thank for the moment, thank for being a so good kisser. My heart was sunk. My mind had gone to the clouds.

Since then, the relationship went on like dreams. He was so manly and caring. He always picked somewhere close to me to meet, when my time is limited and gas price went up high, even though it means he himself sometimes had to drive for an hour, just to be able to see me for few minutes between my 2 clients.

It was a dark night of august, about almost 2 months after our first met. We met late, on his way back from a party. The moon was absent. We sat in his truck and kissed. He pulled me out of passenger seat, put me on his lap and just couldn’t stop. He messed up my hair, messed up my shirt. The world had stopped and what supposed to happen had happened. He took off our clothes, eyes begged me for an intercourse. At that moment, I feel like I was totally his, belong to his. Our first time, happened like magic. I was blown away by his manly magic.

B was like a man who come from “the gold coast” pages written by Nelson De Mille. Actually live on the gold coast, B is a son of a successful businessman, who love riding horseback and spent time on racing track. I don’t know how did his father raise him, but I think he did a great job. B never showed off any wealthy or power. To me, he was always a sweet, caring man.

The prince charming was not belong to me. He was still married. I didn’t know why he decided to reply my ad, even though I specific pointed out I was looking to restart a family, a serious thing. B was still married, with 3 kids. Neither know why he picked me when I think in his position, he could find an escort service without any worriment. Why he decided to interfere with my poor life to make it worse.

I was raised in the culture not encourage damaging any family. Being with a married man is not a good thing to do. My mind told me to leave him million times, but somehow, my heart was weak. Think about it, when you are just a nail technician, working long hours in a nail salon. And out there, there’s a multimillionaire, waiting patiently for hours, to drive you home. Do you feel moved somehow? Sometimes, when you are treated like a slave by unkindly clients, there’s a great man, always gentle, always in passion, treat you like the most beautiful princess in the world. Do you value the time you have with him? And I didn’t want it to end. Every time we met, I feel like I’m a human again.

I come from Asia, come to the America in the age of 31. Back home, I had a BS degree that is not accepted here. I used to have a career, and once used to have more than 200 people worked for me. But then as most of other women, I felt in love with a man, and decided to give up the career for a happy family. So I come to America to be with him. The end was not very romantic, but it was started romantically.

It’s hard to restart a new career life in the age of 31. After my son was born, my husband got in trouble with lots of medical problems. To maintain family’s income, I joint the fellow Asian community, working in nail salons all around long island. This job helps me to take care of my husband medical bills, the rent, the living costs and my son special needs. But this job made me look bad in a lot of eyes, a low class in the social American life. Just not customers sometimes treat us like slave, but also a lot of men when they learnt what I did for living, even didn’t try to hide facial expressions. I didn’t like to do it, neither good at it, but I needed to take care of the man of my life and my special need child. I did whatever I can. It’s hurt after all those year, the "man of my life” turned out just a jerk. All my slavery years working to support him just enough to get the title “wicked witch of the far east”.

Never allow myself to use men’s money, I never asked B to pay for anything. I didn’t feel the equal in our relationship so I didn’t accept his Christmas gift. He never let me pay for restaurants, so I tried to cook for him sometimes, to pay the bill my way. It may sound ridiculous to a lot of people. But somehow it’s me, and I just couldn’t change myself. I tried, but failed.

That was a long and crazy winter of snow storm competition. I had never been a good driver and scare of snow and cold. One time on the way home, I hit a big pile of snow and wouldn’t get out. B said wait for him in half an hour, he would make his way to dig me out.
Nobody wants to get out at that weather. B made me feel happy with just this, I feel like he cared.

Luckily, I saw a snow plow truck passed by so I got out screaming for help. The man dig my car out, and even clear all the way for me to go back home. His name was Carman, drove Old Westbury village snow truck in the winter of 2010. I’ve never said thanks enough to this person. If from any day, anywhere, you read this, pls. take my thankful. I have should looked for you after that day, but somehow, when I got lost in this life… I haven’t. I’m sorry.
Little by little, I slept on his caring, and forgot about reality.

Until his wife found out.

And he left me.

It’s hurt.