It was a glorious, colorful autumn.

We’d just left the coffee shop. When we walked by, she had giggled and pulled me inside, saying, “C’mon, let’s be basic white girls and get some pumpkin spice!”

I don’t like coffee. I never had. But when she handed me my cup and looked into my eyes while I tried it, it was the best thing I’d ever tasted.

My hand still tingled where she grabbed it.

As we walked through the park with our drinks, a light drizzle began to fall. She pulled out an umbrella from her bag, I pulled up my hood and hunched my shoulders.

“Don’t be silly,” she giggled, pulling me under the umbrella with her. I couldn’t help but laugh too, her laugh is infectious.

As the sun started to shine again, she pulled me down to sit on a bench. She beamed down at me, and I could only gaze back adoringly.

“So Ava…” She began. I knew this tone of voice, it’s dangerous.

“Who do you like?” She whispered, and I looked away. I wanted to say, ‘you, you, a thousand times you. You’re the only one I can ever think about. You’re gorgeous and sweet and funny and…’

Instead, I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at my cup.

She looked at me with a cautious smile. “If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?”

“Okay.” I said.

“The person I like… …is you.”

I drop my drink.

"I've been wanting to tell you for awhile though. I know you are not interested in me, but I-"

I put my hand over her mouth.

She looks at me in surprise. I take a deep breath.

"Nancy, I-"

My voice catches in my throat.

She removes my hand from her mouth, leans in a tiny bit closer.

"What is it?" She asks, looking concerned.

Because I can't seem to form the words, I tell her how I feel the only way I can.

Before I can loose my courage, I lean forward pressing my lips to hers. After her momentary shock fades she kisses me back, as her lips move against mine it feels like there's a fire in my veins.

Her hands gently cup my face as mine timidly grab her by the waist. She pulls me deeper into the kiss, running her tongue along my lips and nearly making me moan.

I think, "I can't believe this is happening."

We finally break apart when we both are completely breathless. She tilts her head so our foreheads touching. "Wow." she whispers.

I nod in reply.

Finally getting courage I grab her hands pulling her to her feet.

"Nancy", I say.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

She pulls me into a hug and I rest my head on her shoulder.

"So is that a yes?" I whisper against her soft skin, and she giggles hugging me more tightly.

"Ofcourse it's a yes, Silly!"

I press my lips to hers.

Over and over I keep thinking.

"I can't believe you're mine."

It is the year 1975, when Charlotte Von Sledvin, a 19-year-old student of a Swedish royal family, travels to India to get a portrait made by a gifted artist. The artist was born into a poor Indian family of the lowest caste, also known as the “untouchables.” Despite the incredibly difficult circumstances, the artist named Pradyumna Kumar Mahanandia had gained an outstanding reputation for being a gifted painter. His reputation led Charlotte Von Sledvin to travel all the way to India to get her portrait done.

By the time the portrait was finished, the two had fallen in love. Pradyumna was fascinated with Charlotte’s beauty. Never before had he seen a more beautiful woman from the Western world. He gave his best to capture all her beauty in the portrait, yet never fully succeeded. Nonetheless, the portrait was magnificent and Charlotte fell for his simplicity and his beautiful character. Because of him, she spontaneously decided to stay longer in India. Out of a couple of days became weeks and then even months. The two had fallen so deeply in love that they decided to get married according to traditional Indian rituals.

Unfortunately, the time came when Charlotte had to leave again in order to complete her studies in London. Thousands of miles separated the two but their feelings for each other never changed. They stayed in contact through letters, which they exchanged almost weekly with each other. Naturally, the newlyweds terribly struggled with the great distance between each other. Charlotte offered her husband to buy him air tickets, which he refused. He had not only decided to complete his studies first, but he had also set his mind on reuniting with the love of his life on his own terms. He even made her the promise that he would do anything he can to see her again.

After Pradyumna had finished his studies, he took all his possessions and sold them. Unfortunately, the money he earned didn’t even come close to a flight ticket. All he could afford was a cheap and used bicycle. Many would have been greatly disappointed, some would have even given up. But not Pradyumna. Instead of allowing the difficult circumstances to stop him from seeing his beloved wife again, he met the decision to use what he had in order to see her again. Nothing could stop him from reuniting with his wife, even if that meant an exhausting bicycle ride half around the world.

His decision was the beginning of a bicycle journey from India to the Western world. Pradyumna took all his paintings and brushes along with him in order to financially support his endeavor. His voyage led him through eight countries and took more than four months. But eventually, he arrived at Charlotte’s hometown in Sweden and finally saw her again. From then on, the two did never leave each other’s side for too long.

______________________

Thank you for reading..

mm..

Well just wanted to complete the word limit.

I got married when i was 20 to a man that by all accounts wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t good for me. Long story short, I was married to a loser. He didn’t necessarily do anything wrong, he just didn’t do anything at all. Now, I am not a “typical woman” if there even is such a thing. I love myself. Sure, there are things I want to improve, but I don’t have a problem with my age, or intelligence, or what my body looks like, or my personality- those things that seem to stereotypically plague women just don’t bother me for whatever reason. I have a career where I make more than enough money on my own to live comfortably. I know how to use power tools, fix my own car, and google the shit out of anything else that needs to be done. I say what I mean, and expect others to do the same, none of this passive-aggressive nonsense. But I’m stubborn as a mule, and marriages are supposed to last, so even though I was the primary breadwinner, and did most of the things around the house, and raised my kids mostly on my own, I still spent 13 years in that worthless marriage. At the end of the day, my husband felt like I didn’t need him, because I am very capable. But he was wrong. I needed support. I needed a partner, a friend. Even someone who would see how hard I was working to just keep my head above water. I couldn’t manage EVERYTHING on my own; and I still can’t.

For some perspective at how emotionally isolated I was, I struggled with infertility for three years; I had to take tons of medications & shots that made me sick, tired, have hot flashes, body aches, and migraines for those years; not to mention the emotional drain of every month without fail seeing a single pink line on that damn stick. The emotion of going through a bulk pack of pregnancy tests, or taking photos of your cousin’s child’s first birthday (for the child they conceived after you started trying), is just… a lot to bear; I was very open with my struggles, because i think it helped other people too. Somehow, my husband wasn’t even aware this was a thing that i was needing support in. he had no idea. and it’s not because i didn’t tell him or directly ask him. he just was that thick and lost. he was a five year old trapped as an adult- lacking the ability to give support in that way.

And once I had kids, he was actually more of a burden than a help. I spent most of my time walking on eggshells, trying to balance being exhausted from a high-demand job, making dinner, and praying the kids (who are all-around good kids) didn’t do anything to “poke the bear” while my husband played games on his phone and mostly ignored them. I spent more time trying to keep them from upsetting him than anything else.

When i finally asked him to please leave, everything improved immediately. I could breathe again. I was free of so much dead weight. I was so, so happy to just not-have-him around. It was so much better, I never looked back, and I was ok on my own. Sure, I crawled in to bed every night, feeling ready to collapse at the end of the day. Kids are demanding, after all. But I was free. And I was happy.