A Different Woman

He says I’m unlike anyone he’s ever met before.

I respond, “you must not have met many women in your life.”

He shakes his head, laughs and studies my face in disbelief at my thoughtless response.

But I know what he’s talking about.

I don’t swoon or squirm over his highly paid medical job or that he’s the 2nd youngest person in his position at work.

“I just bought a Benz,” he says.

I crinkle up my nose. “You really should have kept the Jeep. Summer is coming up and now you have a car when you could have had a roofless Jeep! What a mistake.”

I think he finds me amusing, despite our age difference, at how little I care over things other women might.

“I’m going to be quite blunt with you,” I laugh. “I don’t care about your money, or your degrees, or how big your muscles are, or your expensive cars or the famous friends you have. I want to know your soul. Does your soul connect with mine? Because when all of that other stuff is stripped from you, what is left? That’s what I want to know.”

And to be honest with you, I don’t think that at 32 years old, a woman has ever said that to him.

-HK 2/25/17


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