It was last autumn when I first met her. I remember the smile she had, the elegant yet free spirited look in her eyes. I knew at that first precious moment, that she was much more special and different than any girl I had met before. Bianca. What a beautiful name. Sure it means "white" in Italian, but the name fit her better than a sword in its sheath. The first night we spent together was as nerve wrecking as it could possibly get. From the awkward first hello as I picked her up at her apartment, all the way to not looking like a primordial Ape when eating dinner. But the most special moment of the night was after the dinner, as we were driving around, emerged in conversation. I never wanted that car ride to end, so I proceeded to take back roads, into developments I had never myself ventured into before. I remember at one point looking up, and seeing a road sign that was illuminated by street light. The road sign read "Wivelscombe Street". What a strange name I thought. So as we drove through this quiet, quaint little neighborhood, we both quickly realized this was a very special neighborhood.

I pulled over to the side of the road, and we both got out. There was a certain feeling that filled me inside from being there. It was almost as if I had been magically transported back to the streets of England in 1910. The glow of the streetlights shone brightly over the street, revealing park benches spaced properly all throughout beside the road. The houses in Wivelscombe were absolutely beautiful. Very expensive, but not overly extravagant. It wasn't very late at night, but from where we stood not a soul was to be found. It seemed that every family had been comfortably tucked into their house for the night. Bianca took my hand (to my surprise) and we walked down the street, admiring the luxurious and beautiful exterior lit houses. It was a quiet night, with no sound of protruding traffic, or loud aircraft flying above. It was as if the busy outside world had no business here, and therefore did not bother the peaceful tree surrounding neighborhood.

We circled the neighborhood, pointing out the most beautiful of houses. Laughing and smiling as we joked at how we dreamed that one day we would live in a house such as these. Raising children, and letting them run free in the soft green grass. We stopped and sat at a bench that was nestled perfectly between two street lights, leaning our heads back, staring upside down at the beautiful stars up above. The full moon, was almost shinning brighter than the streetlights below. We were both mesmerized at the beauty of the sky above us, completely humble at the realization of how small we are in the big picture of life. As we finally got up, a bit dizzy from the blood rushing back to our bodies, something happened that I wasn't quite ready for. I felt her lips touch mine, as she threw her arms around my neck, pulling us closer together. Her lips felt as soft as when one lays their head upon their pillow at night. The warmth of her body against mine rid me of the slight chill the late night breeze had gifted me with. Whether it was the chemistry of me and her, or the magic of this small neighborhood, that night love had presented itself in the most authentic and pure way it had ever before in my lifetime.

For months afterwards we would visit Wivelscombe, almost on a weekly basis. It was "our place", as we would call it. I never took anyone else there, and she the same. We treated it almost as if it was our own little secret, and that we could only speak of it in private. In the winter we would bundle up nice and warm, just so we could go for a nightly stroll. We would watch the snowflakes fall to the ground, and admire how the snow only complimented the beautiful houses. Most couples need movies and entertainment to satisfy their needy attention, but for me and Bianca, all we needed was each other and Wivelscombe.

It was one spring night when I received her text. It read "Wivelscombe 30 mins". A smile ran across my face as I went to grab my keys and rushed out the door. I pulled up to our normal meeting spot at the front entrance, and parked my car. There she was, sitting on the bench, underneath the glowing streetlights. Yet this time she did not rush to meet me in the middle of the street. She stayed seated on the bench. Curiosity and concern then filled my body. I sat down beside her, and before I could even get the words out to ask what the matter was, she rambled into how she couldn't be with me anymore and she was leaving me. She couldn’t explain to me why, she just kept telling me it was over. I couldn’t even form a single word to say in rebuttal, the pure shock of this hit me like a metal bat against my face. Tears started to form in my eyes, and as I rubbed them away with my sleeve, she rose from the bench and hurried to her car. I sat there in pure paralyzing awe as she drove away. I could barely make out the two red brake lights of her car through the tears that had quickly replaced the ones before them. There I sat on the bench that had many happy and wonderful memories before it, alone and lost. I looked up only to see that the night sky had hidden the beautiful stars behind dark clouds. I lifted myself off the bench and made my way across the street to my car. As I reached my car, I turned around, and took one last look at the place I loved so dearly. It still showed the same beauty and peacefulness it had the first night I stumbled upon this place.

I got in, turned my car around, and pulled up to the exit of the neighborhood. I looked in the rear view mirror, and with one last glance, drove away knowing that I would never again visit the place called Wivelscombe.