The Home of a Heart

Part Two

Another day, another trip to David's house and here I was, contemplating love—again.

Last night, I spent two hours on the phone with my family. I used the landline in the apartment because the long distance rates were cheaper and the plan could shared by me and my five roommates who each had family back in the Philippines.

My parents were still thanking me more than two months later for that anniversary gift I'd sent them—one they said I shouldn't have bothered with but one they were very grateful for. They postponed the trip since my father caught a cold which then progressed to mild bronchitis. He was too weak to go anywhere and then Christmas happened. They were going to wait until the beginning of March to go which was fine with me. So it wasn't them that got me thinking about love this time.

It was my sister, Abigail, who happily told me last night that she might have found her true love—Anton, a science teacher in the school where she taught.

Maybe it was because I was her older sister, or maybe because I wasn't as starry-eyed as she was, but I quickly reminded her to be careful. I expected her automatic defense but she just asked me if I'd ever been truly in love. I told her she knew the answer to that since she knew Bryan and how his complete lack of faith in me, in us, eventually pushed us in different directions. Bryan had been my boyfriend since college but things fell apart with him when I decided to work abroad. Abigail politely informed me that my time with Bryan was not at all an example of true love. He couldn't stay with me through the worse and I couldn't give up much for him.

So today, I couldn't stop wondering if love was just as simple as that—an instinct between two people to want better and more for the other than for themselves.

And I wondered if that kind of love was something some of us could find outside of family and friends—with someone from a different world, a different life.

"Speaking of a different life..." I murmured as I stepped inside the house that had become a world of its own for me and David two nights ago, when he came home and found me sleeping on his couch.

That night, we were just Diana and David—two people from very different walks of life but who understood each other with perfect clarity.

I was humming when I came into the kitchen where I always started for some reason. I found a big sticky note right on the fridge door.

Weather forecast says there won't be a snowstorm to keep you here but I hope you'd stay for dinner with me.

I'll be home 5:30PM sharp.

You know I don't cook so we can go somewhere nice.

Or, if you're up for it, you can fulfill that promise to cook me something. We can shop for supplies.

Hope you're still here when I come home.

-David

Of course, I smiled because who wouldn't?

Shy and serious David had just gone the long way to ask me to stay for dinner. I could imagine the hopeful spark in his eyes with that last line.

Because for a second there, you imagined that he was coming home to you.

I frowned and shook the thought away. My imagination was getting too colorful here.

David and I had a nice time chatting two nights ago and considering the man practically worked every waking hour of his life, he was probably starving for some company and good conversation. There was no need to make a big deal out of a friendly invite for dinner.