It was the twentieth time that the man entered the park, at least a thousand miles from his home. Ignoring the lovers holding hands, the families picnicking, the children playing, he found that special bench and sat down on it.

I’m here, he says. And someone replies. I’ve been waiting for you. Thanks for coming. Some park-goers didn’t mind the man who seemed to be mumbling to himself. A few others smiled knowingly.

Slowly, he starts to talk, like meeting an old friend. He chuckles here and there, obviously amused by a joke only he knows. He relates his woes, his hopes and his dreams. The voice offers words of comfort, and shares in his joy.

It all started a few years ago. Visiting relatives was boring, so he decided to head to the park. On the same bench, he heard the voice. At first, he passed it off as a hallucination, but eventually he started to converse with the unseen female, with her talking back.

It’s lonely being here, she says. People think I’m not here. I’m not even sure I’m here.

You’re here, he replies. As long as I’m here, you definitely exist.

This story was related to me by a good friend. He says that the girl sends her regards too.

A perfect cruise trip: sailing along the seas, eating good food, taking in the sea air, watching birds fly overhead, sunbathing in the deck…and falling in love?

It’s becoming more common these days. Males and females, on the same luxury cruise, going for a fling. They sometimes even become serious lovers, with a much fewer number finally tying the knot. The two are together as long as the cruise lasts, getting to know each other, holding hands and kissing, perhaps even exchange cell phone numbers. Even the crew members get into it, flirting with passengers while doing their jobs.

Why am I talking about this? I recently got a text message from someone I had a short relationship with on a cruise in the Atlantic.

I won’t say her name, but she truly captivated me back then. I’m not ashamed to say that I was head over heels in love. On that boat, we did everything together, and I was sorry that it ended. We exchanged numbers before we got off, but I didn’t have the heart to call her.

I looked at the text message…and ignored it. A fling is a fling after all. That’s what I told myself. That’s what I’ll keep telling myself.