The Wall Crossers

Wed 12 Jan - 10:47am - Tempelhof: Oh, that Magic Feeling - Olivia's perspective

I can see she is wearing her burgundy wool coat, which is open as she runs, and a cream-colored alpaca sweater with a sort of charcoal pleated skirt with double set of buttons down the front, and flat, low heel shoes the color of her hair (lovely auburn) with a single Mary Jane strap, all the fashion now in Germany, and she is so beautiful to see as she nears! And the look on Anja's face is a look I have never been given before in my life.

So, she runs and calls to me and throws herself into my arms. We fall into each other and we are kissing hard, like the world is ending soon. I have my hands on her back and then in her hair and she is cupping her hands around my face, and then putting them inside my coat to pull me closer.

We are trying to talk, as we kiss, words making no sense, and our tears mix together, and she tastes like cinnamon and salty tears and a thrilling Anja taste that makes me want to never stop kissing her. Our kiss is a promise of forever love, electrifying in the moment, yet knowing we've been found to never lose again. And we are alternately laughing, then crying, then kissing hard again—almost falling over together just outside the terminal doors. Passers-by regard us with wonder and amusement and give us space.

We stop, pull back, intertwining each other's fingers on both hands, and I say, "Oh, Anja, I am so relieved! What happened? How did you get here? Where were you?"

"Oh, my süßes Mädchen (sweet baby girl ), I vill explain everysing. I... I have wanted you, and..."

"... I know, Anja..."

She continues, gently squeezing my fingers to get my attention, "... Livia, please listen..." she looks almost desperate, "I wanted you... with me... and needed you... so much... while I was over there... forever my darling... and I..." she is pouring out her heart in broken words and raw emotion.

"...I know... me too. It's... it's okay," I say.

"...Oh... but Livia, please... I wanted you... want you so..." She puts her hands inside my coat, twists her fingers into my shirt and pulls me closer. Our faces touch again. "... and I know... I know now, but I was almost too late." The last word coming as a sob. "But... it's not... and we are here... here together. Together... now. And true love, like we said, Ja, like that. And I... I want you..." she ends in almost a whisper. She is breathless, stops trying to talk, just snuffling quietly.

I kiss her with light kisses, saying "It's ok," against her lips.

We open our eyes again. She moves back, looking straight at me. Eyes wet... sad, but wiser now... full of a hard-won understanding. Composes herself. Wipes her cheeks with the backs of her hand. Sniffs back tears. Takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly through her mouth. Begins telling me the story of what happened.

"I... I saw Horst... went to his family's house—the address I always used for my letters. That was on the third. His Father and Mother, they were shocked to see me. They have not seen me in six years. And you know, they did not know about me since then—yes, they knew about the letters, but nothing else. Not about Horst's plan. They knew nothing of his always writing marriage with me... nothing at all." She shrugs and shakes her head in remembering her confusion and surprise.

"Bummer," I say.

"Ja. They took me to hospital. He is dying. He was shot that night. Just as we knew he was. There have been some surgeries. He saw me... but then turned his head." She chokes up slightly at the memory.

She continues, "His parents... let me stay with them for two days. But... all I could think of was you, my darling Livia. It was... Ja, it was like you always said... was just a dream, with him. Always a dream. But with you, it was real. I thought of what you told me once, that being together, sharing... that makes for true love, and I thought I lost that love, that one true love... lost you." She is crying again. Tears are trickling down my face too, but tears of relief and joy. I hold her and open my coat. She puts her face against my collar, my tan Army poplin shirt soaking up her tears as her hair takes mine.