“Aren’t we all in some ways?” Theo asked. “If the answer to that is no, then, frankly, I think that needs to be addressed.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Theo sighed, watching the people pass for a moment before he elaborated. “I think it’s important to love yourself — even in the selfish way — because you’re the only person truly looking out for yourself. Even if someone cares about you, a friend or family member, at the end of the day?” He shook his head. “Their life goes on, regardless of how you choose to live yours.”
Theo paused, chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment.
“I think it’s important to put yourself first sometimes. Do what makes you happy. Say no when you don’t want to do something. Say yes to whatever you love, even if others don’t understand or support it. Choose yourself every now and then, because if you don’t, then who else will?”
I didn’t miss the way Theo’s eyes darkened with that question, the way his jaw tightened.
“I chose Philautia because that was a lesson I learned the hard way. For a long time, I put others before me no matter what. I would say no to advancements for Envizion because I knew my partner wouldn’t like them, or say yes to doing a publicity event because I knew my parents wanted me to. I would try to be whatever my current flavor of the month wanted me to be — sometimes that meant working out more than I cared to, or eating differently than I usually did, or indulging in pastimes I wasn’t actually fond of all in the name of making a woman happy.”
He shook his head, as if, just like I was currently thinking, he couldn’t believe he’d ever been that way. I couldn’t picture Theo as anything but powerful and steady as a rock in the face of anything, work or otherwise.
“And I was burned,” Theo continued. “Over and over, until I finally realized that though I had good intentions, I was losing myself in the name of serving others.”
Theo’s eyes met mine then, and my heart stopped in my chest at the intensity of his stare.
“I think you can understand that, can’t you?”
I nodded, little flashes of my own sacrifices playing out like a movie reel in my mind. “I can.”
Theo smiled a little, like he understood more than I let on. Then, he leaned back on his palms. “So, Philautia. A self-care gift to myself as well as a constant reminder that a seemingly selfish love for yourself can be a good thing, so long as the balance is there.” He looked at me then. “So long as you aren’t an asshole about it.”
I shook my head on a laugh. “I like it.”
“Why, thank you,” he said with a little bow. Then, he stood, reaching his hand out for mine to help me up. “Shall we?”
The rest of the day was spent exploring Positano through the lens of my camera.
We happened upon a wedding in the streets, and the bride and groom laughed and danced and posed for us while I clicked away. An older woman with ash-gray hair and deep wrinkles smoked a cigarette as she watered the flowerpots hanging outside her shop. A young boy whizzed by on a scooter, the wind in his hair, and he turned to smile at my camera just as he passed. Two nuns walked the streets in long, beige habits, handing out small cards with the Serenity prayer. I captured a shot I knew would be in my portfolio just as one of them extended a card toward me, her smile wide above it, eyes crinkled at the edges with a small alleyway lined with flowers stretching out behind her, and at its apex — the Tyrrhenian Sea.
I spoke with the locals who were open to me prying into their lives, holding up my camera and pointing at their shops, their homes, their restaurants. With each place we ventured, I found myself lost a little more in the culture, in this magical city on the seaside cliff. I grimaced when I tasted limoncello for the first time at the insistence of a loud and boisterous Italian man named Giovanni. I laughed at the little girl who played tricks on her uncle while he worked their leather shop on the street. And I blushed with a quiet thank you when an old man who spoke no English at all offered me a lapis lazuli necklace, the blue gemstone tied onto a simple, thin, brown leather strap.
And all the while, Theo walked alongside me in silence, watching me attempt to freeze-frame the world around us.
By the time the sun started to make its descent over the water, my legs ached from all the stairs we climbed, and I longed for a hot shower. But when I suggested we start to make our way back to the dock, Theo declined.
“I have one more stop, the place I said I wanted to show you.”
I laughed, gesturing to the sights around us. “You mean more than you already have?”
His smile was my only answer, and he led the way up a small winding road at the top of the town where we’d climbed.
I scurried to catch up. “Didn’t Wayland say he’d be at the dock before sunset?”
“I called him earlier and told him we’d need more time. Don’t worry,” he said with a smirk over his shoulder. “I’ll have you back before you turn into a pumpkin.”
I rolled my eyes, but before I could pop off a remark, Theo gently gripped my elbow.
He held me that way for a moment, still walking, and as we climbed the steep street, his hand slowly slid down lower. His palm was warm where it traced down the inside of my forearm, over the delicate bones of my wrist, and then he interlaced his fingers with mine, grabbing my hand tightly in his own.
I felt that squeeze like a naked plunge into
