Sometimes, things that we do for love can be confusing. love can be the main driver behind many of the actions we make or decisions we take, but the result is not always happiness and peace as we wish for. Many people interpret love as weakness, others do correlate love and pain, why do we confuse a positive emotion like love with negative emotions like weakness and pain?
Let’s be true with ourselves, when we choose to stay in a relationship with someone out of fear of abandonment, fear of loneliness or purely because of a personal interest, this is not love.
So maybe what we need is to surround ourselves with positive people who pushes us forward and be more selective in choosing our life partner for the person they currently is, not based on the person we hope they will be… or in other words, it is pointless to chase the "Mirage".
Sometimes, things that we do for love can be confusing. love can be the main driver behind many of the actions we make or decisions we take, but the result is not always happiness and peace as we wish for. Many people interpret love as weakness, others do correlate love and pain, why do we confuse a positive emotion like love with negative emotions like weakness and pain?
Let’s be true with ourselves, when we choose to stay in a relationship with someone out of fear of abandonment, fear of loneliness or purely because of a personal interest, this is not love.
So maybe what we need is to surround ourselves with positive people who pushes us forward and be more selective in choosing our life partner for the person they currently is, not based on the person we hope they will be… or in other words, it is pointless to chase the "Mirage".
“Hi, how are you? Can we have a quick one-on-one meeting? I
need your guidance with a couple of matters,” Anna said. A young
woman — tall, slim, with skin so white, it practically glowed —
Anna looked to be in her early thirties.
“Hi. Um… I’m on my way home and can’t wait to start the
weekend. If it’s not, um, too urgent, can we make the meeting
first thing on Monday?” I asked. I was embarrassed and taken by
surprise by the most beautiful, innocent-looking woman I have
ever seen stopping me in the corridor on my way out of the office.
“I promise it will be really quick and won’t keep you from your
long weekend,” she replied.
“Sure, let’s take this meeting room,” I said. I couldn’t resist the
innocent look I saw in her eyes or the sweet smile that was on her
face, which I still vividly remember to this day. So, we went into
a small meeting room. “How can I help you?” I asked.
She was seeking my guidance on how she could plan for her
career and what roles she could target to advance from being
a temporary worker to a full-time employee. Given my track
record and experience, numerous people in our company had
recommended me, which was the reason she came to me for a
one-on-one meeting. I started by asking her a few questions
about her work experience and skills and the specifics on the
temporary contract she was doing for our company, which was
about to expire, hence her seeking guidance in hopes of finding
a suitable job opening with us.
As time passed, a strange feeling started to slip into my subconscious
about this charming, eager girl. I began to think
— inappropriately, I realize — that she was not only smart and
hardworking, but beautiful. I felt a connection to her developing,
a feeling of admiration. Her charm was disarming, yet I felt fully
comfortable around her. My train of thought was suddenly
derailed when she started talking about her children. Turns out,
she was married with two beautiful daughters.
I hid my disappointment as best I could. “Wow, no way. You
look too young to be married with two kids.” I added that I was
also married with two kids.
At this point I had to hit the brakes on any feelings that sparked
in this meeting and to handle this meeting as professionally
as possible. As we wrapped up, she asked for another meeting
early the next week, which happened to be the last week for her
in our company, so that she could learn more about the various
positions she might be eligible for and apply to the appropriate
job openings. I agreed to that request, and we set a meeting time.
On my way home, I couldn’t help but think of this charming
girl who I had just met and how unlucky I was to find out that she
was married. I wondered why I couldn’t have met her sooner. My
mind raced with thoughts about her until I got home to my wife and
kids, got involved with them, and got back to my normal routine.
The following week when I arrived at our prebooked meeting
room, I saw her inside through the smoked glass wall, so I
knocked on the door as I entered the room.
Oh. My. God!
She looked absolutely stunning: amazing hair flowed down
her back; simple makeup highlighted her features in the best
possible way; an infectious smile beamed across the room. She
was literally sparkling. I still remember standing in the doorway
for a minute mesmerized by her…
Then I shook my head to snap out of it and remembered that I
was a married man, and she was a married woman, and I was her
superior in the company, which meant that I must be absolutely professional
and sincere in offering my advice to her without letting any
other feelings or emotions slip into my mind or develop for her.
I kept it professional, sharing all the pertinent information with
her about our company and what the potential roles for her were.
When we finished the meeting, she asked for my mobile number
so that she could reach out to me if she needed more information
or advice, particularly after her temporary employment with us
came to an end. She also mentioned that she had a job interview
with another employer, then thanked me for all the information.
I wished her best of luck with her upcoming interview and agreed
to keep in touch.
For the rest of the day, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. All I
could focus on was how beautiful she looked and what might have
happened if we were single. She monopolized my thoughts until the
moment I hit my front doorstep when I forced her out of my head.
The next day at work, I thought about texting her, but then I
was afraid that it would look unprofessional, even inappropriate
as I couldn’t think of anything work-related to discuss with her.
I ultimately decided not to text her and finally got back to my
normal work routine, banishing any memory of this encounter
from my head.
A couple of months later, I was in the office having a discussion
with my manager when I heard a sweet and vaguely familiar voice
behind me. “Hi, how are you?”
I turned to return the greeting and was taken aback to find
that it was Anna. I stood there for a moment forgetting all about
my manager and just gazed into her eyes. And the smile on her
face overwhelmed me with joy.
“Hi,” I said with a little too much enthusiasm. “Oh my God.
What are you doing here?”
“They brought me back on a new annual contract as an outsource
employee,” she replied with a smile. “Today’s my first day.”
“That’s great news! Congratulations and best of luck. Please
feel free to reach out if you need any help.” I couldn’t contain my
excitement and happiness to see her again.
“We should sit when you have some time to catch up and
continue my career development discussion.”
“It’ll be my pleasure. I’m actually free now if it suits you.” My
heart was racing. Why was I so excited to see her again? We’d
only met twice, and nothing had happened in those meetings
that should cause all this excitement.
We found a meeting room and started to catch up on her new job
assignment and what had happened over the past couple of months.
“If you are interested to know what was going on with me, why
didn’t you contact or text me?” she asked.
“I probably should have” I replied, blushing.
For the following ninety minutes (it was hard to tell; I got
lost in our time together), we continued a friendly and sweet
conversation. At the end, we bid farewell. I didn’t push setting
another meeting. She was back working with us and would be
available for the next year. I had enough composure to maintain
my self-respect by not cornering her for another meeting. I simply
joined another business meeting I had on my schedule.
For the rest of the day, though, I experienced a swell of
happiness and excitement about her return. I would see her again
in the halls, and we could meet anytime we wanted. My heart
was racing, and a smile was on my face for the rest of the day.
I felt joy, which I hadn’t felt for a very long time due to work
pressures, family needs, and the general routine of life. I was
quite surprised by my reaction, as I meet attractive women all
the time at work or at friends’ gatherings. Yet I never had similar
thoughts or feelings toward any of them.
I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what was so special about
this woman.
Later in the day, I thought I would text her to officially welcome
her back to our company and tell her what a pleasure meeting
with her was. She texted right back.
Anna: The pleasure is mine. See you around!
Sure, the response was brief, but I got really excited because it
was immediate. And we continued to chat for a little bit.
We gradually started meeting more frequently till they became
part of our daily routine. At first we kept the conversations
focused on business and our careers. But as we expanded our
meetings into our coffee breaks, so did the topics of conversation
expand away from business. Eventually, we were casually going out
for coffee rather than to the break room, then going to lunch together,
no longer limiting our conversations to work but expanding our
discussions to our personal lives, our marriages, children, interests,
and hobbies. It was a continuous flow of conversation that began
every day at work and continued via text when we go home.
BRB. That was the code we agreed on if we wanted to warn
each other to stop texting immediately in case my wife or her
husband was around. And similarly, we agreed on a couple of
codewords if we wanted to check if the other person was available
for a call or something.
Anna became a very important part of my day, constantly
checking on me, constantly available. We agreed to book a
meeting room at the office on a daily basis so that we could
meet and work together. Basically, we were together all the time,
physically or in spirit, so my feelings for her grew stronger and
stronger. Then came the day when I offered to help her with a
work assignment so she could finish it faster. Once the project was
completed and I was on my way home, I received a text message
alert. It was from her.
Anna: Thank you veeeery much for your help today.
The message was followed by a heart emoji — the first time she
sent one — and my heart started racing.
Me: Me too!
I followed it up with a blushed-face emoji.
And that, as they say, was that.
That simple exchange kicked off an entirely new stage of our
relationship. We were together all the time, from the moment
we woke up till the moment we went to sleep. We shared more
and more information about our personal lives, how our spouses
were treating us, and our families. In time, I came to know how
challenging her life was and the details of her marriage. She and her
husband were vastly different from each other: he was an introvert
while she was very extroverted; he cared less about the future while
she was obsessed with planning for her future and her career.
As an extrovert, she loved to go to parties and enjoy a few
drinks every weekend, but she confessed to me that she’d go to
these parties alone, as her husband didn’t care for socializing or
social drinking. She invited me a couple of times to join her at a
party, but I was hesitant to accept. I started to feel guilty because
I was a married man who was involved with a married woman.
Nothing physical had happened, but I knew it was wrong that we
were getting so close to each other. Yet, I couldn’t help myself.
My guilt was countered by the happiness, positive energy, and
excitement that I felt every time I met her, went out with her, or
texted her.
Me: Happy Birthday!
I sent her this message on the morning of her birthday.
I couldn’t contain my excitement on this day because I wanted
to surprise her by taking her shopping for a birthday gift. When
we met at the office, I told her about my plan. She was elated. Yet
once we arrived at the mall, she became suddenly a little shy and
concerned about not picking an overpriced gift.
“What is your budget for the gift?” she asked me, with a blushed face.
“The sky’s the limit. Pick whatever you like,” I replied.
She beamed at my response, then led me to a Louis Vuitton
shop, where she picked a very nice handbag. As I paid for it, I
wished her a happy birthday again. Then we went home.
We continued chatting later that day. She repeatedly expressed
how very happy she was with the gift, and I came to learn that
her husband never bought her gifts on her birthday or Valentine’s
Day because he thought it a waste of money and resources. Consequently,
it made me gratified that I could do something special
for her that might bring us closer to each other.
In the meantime, once I got home, I started subconsciously
comparing Anna to my wife: the way they looked, the attention-level
I was getting from each, the happiness and excitement I felt when
I was with each of them. The comparison didn’t entirely favor my
wife, but leaving my wife or divorcing her was out of the question.
As an outsourced employee, I knew that she wasn’t making
much money. And I also knew that she loved shopping, traveling,
fancy dinners, all the stuff her husband considered superficial
and a waste of money. So naturally, I stepped in to satisfy all
these needs. For example, she used rental cars to get around as
she couldn’t afford to buy one, so I gave her the money to buy the
luxury car she wanted. It made her so happy, and her happiness
gave me a level of satisfaction I had never felt before.
By this point in our relationship, we had learned almost every
detail about our personal lives, and this was when she started
to react differently to the things I’d tell her about my wife. She
started to be more compassionate and empathetic, rejecting my
wife’s actions and the way my wife treated me, which made me feel
that maybe Anna was right. Maybe I deserved better, especially
since my marriage wasn’t based on great passion and love, and our
daily routine didn’t involve emotions. It was like each of us had
roles and responsibilities in the marriage that we were obliged to
do on a daily basis for the rest of our lives. From my side I had to
make sure that all my wife’s needs were met, that she felt satisfied.
For example, when my wife wanted a Rolex, I didn’t mind at all
buying her one. When my wife wanted to travel, we jetted off to
Dubai or Paris or Malaysia. So, my wife didn’t feel sad or that
she was missing anything, I didn’t mind doing all these things
for my her, but I didn’t feel satisfied or complete.
Buying stuff for or traveling with my wife made my girlfriend (I
think I could call her my girlfriend at this stage) feel jealous, and
sometimes she couldn’t hide it. To fix that, I had to deal with my
girlfriend in the same manner I dealt with my wife. For example,
I bought Anna a Rolex as a Valentine’s Day gift because I knew
that she had wanted one for so long and felt jealous when I got
one for my wife. Anna was very happy with the gift. She even
sent me the Snapchat video she posted. At this point, I started to
think that the situation was becoming emotionally overwhelming.
Because I wanted to be closer to Anna and spend more time with
her, I started hating weekends. I didn’t get to see or talk to her
freely when her husband or my wife were around.
One weekend, Anna told me that she was invited to a girls-only
party, so I offered to drive her to the location, then pick her up
afterward because I felt so worried about her drinking and driving
after the party, especially since the party was forty-five minutes
away. She readily agreed — maybe too readily — so I picked her
up at home posing as an Uber driver. The way she spoke and
her expressions made me realize that she’d had a couple of shots
before I arrived at her house. She said it was just to get in the party
mood. When we arrived at the location, she locked eyes with me.
“Kiss me,” she said in a teasing voice.
I tried to keep cool. I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
“No, I want a real kiss,” she demanded.
So, I did.
I was surprised by how overwhelmed it made me. My heart
was racing, my cheeks blushing.
Our first kiss. I just sat there stunned and watched her leave the
car as if nothing had happened and go into the party. I parked
nearby and just sat in the car playing the moment over and over
in my mind. It was better than anything I had ever imagined.
After some time, she sent me a video of girls dancing at the party
just to show me the vibe, but what grabbed my attention were
her legs: perfection!
I waited till the early morning hours when she finally left the
party and stumbled into the car. It was obvious she’d had too
much alcohol. She snuggled next to me, tucked herself under
my arm and slept all the way back until we arrived at her home.
When I woke her up, she didn’t say anything. She just drunkenly
smiled at me and disappeared into her home. I put the car in
drive and headed back home, dead tired.
At its core Mirage by Leo Refay is a tale of doomed love, featuring the archetypical femme fatale as instigator. It is hard to expand heavily on Mirage's plot, a story that centres around the relationship of Adam and Anna after a chance encounter at their place of work.
This could have been a good book. There is a fizzle of author passion and in select places the story does present intrigue, however fundamental issues make it ultimately read like a clunky first draft. Between Adam and Anna's meeting on page one and the end of the book on page 173 there is limited character development. Adam consistently refers to Anna as his girlfriend, yet during a later outburst Anna reaffirms their platonic friendship. Are we to assume Adam is continuing to pour his heart (and wallet) to a woman showing no signs of physical affection?
Description is lacking; there is nothing to explain what Adam's company does, we do not even know his wife's name. Poor plot devices are used routinely to distract from sloppy writing. For instance, after a swift divorce Adam's wife and unnamed children are dispatched "back to their [undefined] country", writing them out of the story. No further comment is made of, or by, them. Maybe believable in an 18th century setting, but not 2020.
Anna is demanding, impatient and aggressive. The intention of Adam's first person narrative is to portray Anna as the sole villain, yet all the characters display toxic tendencies. Adam is possessive and controlling, insisting on managing Anna's investments and sitting in on her work meetings. Rose, a secondary female introduced later on, lacks boundaries, messaging Adam in an overly persistent and needy way. When Adam demonstrates a strong liking for Rose, they sleep together twice and he quickly moves on. There is no breathing space for any of the characters to reflect on their actions as they dart between luxury holiday trips and drunken parties.
Unlike the majority of stories involving a femme fatale, there is no build-up of tension in this book. Adam and Anna hit the height of their negative attributes in the first quarter, leaving the author with nowhere to go other than circling around the same repeated scene of envy, anger, forgiveness. If Mirage had been in less of a rush to get to that point then maybe it would have faired as a better read.
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