I was 20 years old, the year was 1999 and I had just moved to New York City. It was 3pm when I leaned back in my seat, turning my head to the right towards the door when I saw her. Time slowed down to a crawl: Flowing black curls, deep dark eyes, full lips, ivory-white skin, freckles, a serious gaze and a slender, petite frame. I had never seen anything like her. Who is this? Who was she? The next day I ordered 25 red roses to be sent to her desk. She of course had no idea who they were from until, by luck, we wound up in the same elevator. We started talking. Somehow she had heard I was from Germany and she mentioned her favorite film in the world “Wings of Desire” and how she had always wanted to go to Berlin. At the end of of our conversation I nervously disclosed to her that I had sent the flowers. Getting flowers sent anonymously flattered and confused her at the same time. She was 43 years old and I was just a kid. Regardless I mustered up my courage and asked her on a date. A movie date. We watched “Buena Vista Social Club” at a small movie theatre and had dinner at a turkish place just west of Central Park. (Both her choices since I had honestly no idea what a date really meant) This and the following dates were fun but also awkward. I think it was awkward mostly for her because I wasn’t even aware (or ignored) the huge age-difference. She fascinated me, I wanted her and that’s all I knew or cared about. She had to consider her role and her responsibility. Well, we did go on a few more dates that summer and we really tried to make it work. We watched French movies, walked for hours, we visited her hometown out in Far Rockaway and even made out on her couch a few times! However, it just didn’t work. I think she was very conscious about our age difference. After all, I was basically still just a kid at 20 years. I was half her age. At the beginning of August we called this thing, whatever it was, off. This just wasn’t working. We liked each other, sure. But the age thing was just too much and we had tried at least, right? We parted ways and I didn’t think of her anymore. The summer of 1999 was filled with exploring new neighborhoods, making new friends, meeting girls my age and just having a blast as one does in your early 20s living in New York City. I had moved into a new place down on Peck Slip and just loved every moment of my life. In early September I ran into her again at work. We had not seen each other for maybe two months. God, she was so beautiful and her subtle smell still hypnotized me. Well, somehow we decided to get a drink that evening, just to catch up on our summer. You know, have a laugh about how we used to date and just hang out as friends. That evening we explored her neighborhood, Carroll Gardens and had wine at one of the new bars on Smith Street. I don’t remember exactly how or why but towards the end of the evening we got into a fight. I really don’t know why anymore but we were walking down Sackett Street and we broke out into this verbal fight until at some point she started hitting me with the force of her small frame. She cried and I tried to protect myself from her blows. Until we locked eyes for what seemed an eternity. I pulled her towards me. Then I kissed her and time stood still. We sprinted to her apartment, ripped off each others clothes and slept together for the first time. We had overcome whatever did not work the first time we dated. This time around there were no more questions or second-guessing our age. I began to learn from her as she taught me. For the coming weeks she taught me about love. She taught me about men and women. She taught me sex. And passion. And she showed me how to completely lose myself in someone else. We decided to fly across the Atlantic and spend a weekend in Berlin in a small hotel off Kurfürstendamm. We made love while the city waited outside our room. We showered and ate at fine restaurants. We held each other close. We explored the wall. Devoured coffee. We loved. 3 days. The taxi pulled over and she got in to go to the airport. I myself had a trip to Switzerland coming up and stayed in Germany for another week. I knew it was over. I don’t know how but I knew it as I waved her good-bye. I knew that it had been perfect. And I knew that there was nothing more I could do. We had spent what we was given to us and we had tasted each others lives and now it was over. My heart broke in that moment standing on that curb. ## Related - [[NYC 1999 – The happiest time of my life]]