It is not true that Manya and I never connected. We did, many years later. We made children, and created a family and a home. Wow!
My first encounter with Manya represented some form of recognition. No, alas, not a hunger, really, but something more inevitable, something that could be satisfied, that harmoniously fell into place, like a clock’s mechanism, ticking, ticking quietly until the moment when the hour strikes firmly. Or a lock’s mechanism in which the tumblers tick around and then suddenly fall into place with the certainty of a solid click. There is a settled peace that emanates from such moments. Like tucking ourselves naked into bed under heavy covers on a cold winter night, and tucking, twisting into each other in peaceful exhalation.
