The more we move ahead the more we're stuck in rewind

Embarrassing pauses sprinkle our conversation; when the task of dropping the girls off is done, we talk small until there is nothing left to generalize. I leave, cry, wondering if I ever knew you.

Then I remember not being able to wait to return home to tell you all of these occurrences or thoughts that came to me throughout the day... in the end, I came home to find a woman irritated with her life, and not feeling love at all. I should have told you anyway.

The thoughts never dissipated... they surrounded me like little anxious birds in my head, wanting freedom. I started having conversations with myself, imagining what you would say back to me if we were in love.

Pink Christmas

It has been 9 months since you told me to leave. I still feel it as if it were March 25.

I dreaded this day out of all, as Christmas morning is the culmination of family, love and togetherness. Someone else gets that role now.

My favorites were ones where I had to set up your gift, like the pink bike. It's one of the few gifts I felt confident about, and was anxious to see what you'd think when you came downstairs to find it. I imagined that the expression on your face would be like that of you as a young girl on Christmas morning.

You know all too well how much I could see you as a girl.

August 14, 2001

We went to the hospital in the middle of the night when your contractions intensified. They hooked you up to machines and then told you to have a good night.

I slept in a couch that was not very comfortable... and listened to you breathe all night (I always felt like you were breathing in the dark and I could only listen, with love). I kept wondering what she would look like when she came out of you.

And I was in awe of the love for her in you.

the core

I know the complications that have lead us here. I have wallowed in their juices and dined on their feast.

Still, it comes down to a warm day in June, when I saw how pretty you can be while talking, while smiling, as you stood legs askew and asked me what is beautiful. It all comes down to that blond haired woman who laughed consciously as she spoke, and drew me in with her eyes.

I wanted to know those eyes forever.

for amelia 11/7/08

when i am no one, i see that you are everything.

the red pulse of your lips and the night striations of your eyes
have nothing to do with me.

as they lay, wounds on your body, i contemplate what dies
within you,
and even as your flesh stretches taut like pink webbing
cannot deny the life that changes inside the cocoon
that is your body.

it falls awakens, falls away, i mourn the pieces as she
unfolds in wetness and moves in newness and

forgets the birth.

dancing

In February, 1998, we sat in the RIC theater, waiting for the Festival Ballet to come on. It was part of my Valentine's gift to you, as you spoke so happily of the years you danced.

The conversation somehow turned to talk of marriage, and you said something to the effect of not knowing why people are in such a rush to be married. After an awkward few minutes of conversation, where you tried to elaborate on what you meant, we left it alone.

A couple of days later you left me a card with the sweetest explanation of what you meant, talked of the longing of wanting to have a child. Your words read of such sincerity, it was apparent that you didn't want me discouraged, I smile every time I think of it. It is still one of my favorite cards from you, although they're all so hard to rank.

through a looking glass

The Friday after i arrived home from Florida and had to confront my e-affair, we went to a party at some friends' home. These are very good friends, people who in spite of their income are truly down to earth and fun.

It's always a social setting that provides this other framework in which to see you. It's a cliche, but you were always the most beautiful woman at all parties, and interesting, your distinctive laugh punctuating your conversations.

newborn skin

The first week of L***'s birth, she awoke for her night time feeding, and you brought her in and lay her on our bed. Electra purred and made circles around her, and i started talking to her, the kind of happy talk only a new parent can feel.

You told me not to get her excited, and i laughed.... how can a one week year old even know what's going on around her let alone feel excitement?

Having her there bonded us in such a way as I had never considered in my life. The memory of you talking with me on our bed in August 1997, telling me you wanted children, became so alive, so happy it was the closest i had been to having a perfect feeling of contentment.

hippie chick

Two or three weeks into dating, we lay on a blanket at the Town Beach in the evening.

Asking questions, just enjoying getting to know each other. I must have stroked your leg at one point, because you asked, "Does it bother you that I don't shave my legs?"

I hadn't noticed that you didn't. The question was so out of place with how I felt: you were so attractive, intelligent and fun I was still getting used to the fact that you wanted to be with me.

Your concern about the fact that your unshaven legs somehow made you less desirable was laughable. Your saying that made me start to fall in love with you.

goodbye heathcliff

There was a time when you looked forward to seeing me. Perhaps it was early on in the relationship, those looks and smiles when the person reappeared from work or errands, the happiness of seeing them again.

i know it never faded for me. The worst days at work, a boring meeting, even a fun outing with friends was made better with knowing i would return home to you.

Now it seems that i was obsessed, that Heathcliff and Catherine should stay literary characters and not as an example of what can be when two people love one another.

I need to temper myself for the next one, redefine 35 years of understanding love and no longer point to poetry and music as manifestations of it.

And then there is you, your beauty just silently standing in my heart, your words flowing through the same paths as my blood, and i am saddened more so each day.

God i love you.

one more shard

Because of co-workers talking about their babies walking, not walking, i told them about how long it took L***.

Which brought me to that two weeks we lived with your parents as our bathroom was being re-modeled. She started walking because you and your mother held her in front of one another and let her go until she fell/walked to each of you. That exercise initiated her walking at 20 months.

The image of you holding her as she ran towards your mom in the dining room is so vivid, i cannot believe she is already seven years old.

answering machine

I cannot stop them. If I don't write them down, I do not know where else they will go.

On July 17, 1997, I arrived home to find you had left me a message on my answering machine.

Your message: "Hi C****, it's A** from the D******** D******. Boy is it hot today. I was wondering if you wanted to do something sometime."

There was more, but my head was so full of heaven all I remember is your voice, your casual mention of the weather and other small talk, before the question.

I felt as though I could fly to band practice. A few days later, I stopped by the store when you were working and we settled on a date- July 20. It took some planning, if I am not mistaken... both of us had a lot of conflicts.

Years later, I would ask you, why did you ask me out? I asked because as the years went by you seemed less and less interested in me. Your answer was not exactly what I was looking for, but still sweet: "Because I knew you never would."

storyland

Finally, you said it point blank... again. This time i won't question any further:

"I don't want to work on the marriage."

i am angry, but not for the reasons you may think. i am angry because why , in spite of your self centeredness and uncaring personality, am i still in love with you? i have made mistakes, but i was also very, very committed to you. And yet, all i hear is, "You're not worth it."

Last memory.

June 2007, camping and Storyland. It was a lot more fun than i thought it would be, especially spending time with the girls at the campsite. i looked forward to the nights with you, after the girls fell asleep. The first couple were unremarkable, we turned in early, but the third night we stayed up, playing cards. In the darkness, with little light from the fire, your face took on new textures and colors, another one of those instances where i was taken aback by how lovely you were. i then knew that there wasn't an end to what i'd see about you, and looked forward to years of new places and lighting that brought you to life again.

i guess i am the only one who wanted us brought to life again. This morning's comment didn't surprise me... it was an all too familiar feeling of how you have thought about us for years.

Thank you for ten and a half years... i am scared that i will never have it again.

Eternal Sunshine

God, your smile.

Never knew what I could do to elicit one from you. Usually if I stared long enough, you'd notice and smile. While shopping, I'd watch you walking up and down aisles of clothes with a half smile on your face, doing that head movement you do when your neck bothered you. Both were so predictable I was comforted in their certainty.

You are fading from me, more so than before. I am both comforted and saddened. Pretty soon I will be so indifferent to you that we can be friendly, and those ten and a half years just a season in our lives.

I will miss you.

Death Support

Walking out into the backyard on a spring Saturday morning, ready to start the house projects. We'd work in the yard almost all day until the sun became too much... the girls would play in their sandbox a lot longer than we thought they would. Looking around and seeing you, L*** and C*******, I knew how lucky I was, and yet it was forgotten when I needed you more than you would give and sought elsewhere.

Almost everything of mine has been moved from the house, like life slipping away from a terminally ill patient.

cardboard monuments

Cards were always your way of expressing yourself best. I never bored of how you wrote "To My Beloved C****" or called yourself my "dearest of A*****s".

Writing them brought out a kind of poetry in you, comments about our relationship from an angle I wouldn't thought of... askew observations that always made you you.

The words are now too unbearable..... someday they will sing of all that you have forgotten.

a dance

A favorite image of you from 1997, when I would go into the store and you would approach me to talk. I loved how you used your whole body to tell a story: legs slightly askew, arms and hands gesticulating madly, your eyes and mouth in an incredulous smiles as though you were in disbelief at what you were saying.

As years went on, you were always like that when talking passionately about something. It never became old, seeing that act, and I now know that it is because it reminded me of those early days, while also a promise for the future.

Newburyport

Although i had a lot to say about our anniversary trip to Newburyport not being our best moment, i did appreciate walking in the rain with you that first day.

Meandering in and out of stores, looking at items we could see in Wickford... except for the occasional unique thing, such as the metal water bottles.

I still love the one you ordered me for father's day.

august 15, 2001

Lucy's delivery was simultaneously wonderful and scary. Seeing you in so much pain made me realize what a sacrifice you were making for us, our family, the next step in our lives.

I remember how brave you were, for both births, and was unsure if i could be so brave in the same situation.

December 31, 2006

That late afternoon, we were confused about Chelsea wanting to do "bread" as she held up her cup of sparkling cider. After a few moments, it hit us that she wanted to do a toast, as we had done moments before.

We all laughed, even Lucy, even Chelsea.

While it's often the big moments that affect me, these smaller pools of memories are more unbearable

hauntings

It never became old seeing you walking through town, especially when least expected it as I ran in quick from work or errands. Your walk is confident yet not overly so, and it gives the appearance of you gliding.

And begs the question, what could I have done to give you the same?

untitled

I came across an old journal of mine from 1999 into 2000. Taped to a page were two of your lipstick imprints that you had given me one day and said, "For your collection."

I only have three total, I think, but I did take them whenever the opportunity arose. After your eyes, your lips were my favorite part of you.

Placing my lips against one of the imprints did not bring back the feeling of kissing you, much to my disappointment.

Playing with food

We had the hardest time finding restaurants in Houston. The hotel was in that medical district, an oversight of mine because I wanted to be near the Butterfly Cave.

One great find, a cab ride away, was where we ate the plate piled high with Crayfish. Afterwards, they made fine puppets on our fingers, and to be so goofy with you reassured me that I could be so comfortable around you.

evolution

My relationship with the girls has changed. I do not want to say for worse, but it certainly isn't for better.

As I read to them, play with them, spend time with them it's as if the bond that held us all together is compromised and screams loudly, "we are a father and his two girls and a mother and her two girls."

I have a favorite piece of video that i took as you held C******* when she was a few months old. She woke up and it was later at night, so you brought her downstairs so we could be with her. She is so adorable in the video, making her little pucker faces, getting all excited and cooing. She made us laugh so much... I wish the video had your face rather than just the back of your head.

When L*** was a baby, we snuck in her room and filmed her as she slept. We wanted to capture it because she always slept with her butt up in the air, a common position for babies. I love how in the video you rub her back gently as we enter the room.

fine dining

One early date i had you over to my apartment for dinner. Years later, i cringed at how basic the dinner was - pasta and sauce. i clearly remember your face when you saw that i had put no effort into it. i am lucky that you wanted to see me again.

That night we ended up in my room and you asked me to brush your hair. This simple act was so moving: sitting on my bed as i brushed your long hair. i then ruined it by making it sexual.

i am so fortunate that you gave me so much room for these mistakes, and many others. It's a wonder that you put up with me as long as you did. Still,I find little sweetness in my errors.

pens & pencils

Being married to an artist has many advantages. My favorite is that when you doodled, the doodles where worth keeping. Those of us who cannot draw are envious of those of you who can.

I have several, collected over the years after you'd be on the phone, or just drawing as we talked. You probably didn't miss them, but I was always happy to put them in my journal.

Theatre

In October 2006 we saw Lion King in Boston with P** & I**. Going to see theatre with you was always a unique experience because of how serious you took it. You believed, as did I, that people should make it special by dressing up, not be so casual. It was another aspect of you that endeared me.

I always loved how you dressed so nicely, even when you dressed casually. And at time like the Lion King, you were somehow more lovely with your dresses, coats and shoes. Being with you at these times was like being on a first date all over again- I couldn't stop looking at you.

Nor could the drunk guy on the train who hit on you, asking for your "card." You were so taken aback... "My card?" It's an urban thing, we guessed. Afterwards I had a great conversation with him, but of course couldn't help but feel more fortunate than he because you were with me.

But today, I sense that you are indeed leaving my body, my soul, my heart. Although I am sad, at least I have some relief from the pangs of constant regret and sorrow.

happy anniversary

Today would have been nine years. The peace that came to me two days ago has once again been replaced with despair.

I always loved our anniversary, especially trying to find something to honor the traditional gift. My selections were never as creative as yours, but I was happy with most of my selections.

Each year I would look ahead and try and determine what I would get you for a fifteen, twenty or twenty five year anniversary.

For our ten year, I had planned to get another live butterfly, like the one I had at our wedding, so we could release it together again.

I had so many plans A*****, but none of them included not being with you.

relent

This afternoon, my prayer was answered; a peace came over me and suddenly it was all clear: I saw where we were wrong rather than always seeing where we right. You were gone from me, for at least a few hours.

And then I was taken aback by the fact that I missed you from being within me.

It may not last- I could very well breakdown tonight or tomorrow morning, my usual triggers, but if so at least I was temporarily relieved.

Still, I will end with a memory.

Our second date, we went to JG Goffs, which had been my hang out for almost a year. The waitresses who knew me were so sweet and attentive to us. We held hands over the table and didn't even touch the food we ordered, which never happens to me, and it was at that point I knew you were more special than any other woman I had dated.

i'm not there

All photos of me are gone from the house or piled in the girls' bedrooms. You have what you wanted: I never existed to you in any special way.

Once in awhile, I would offer to carry you upstairs to bed. You never thought I could do it, but would always let me try. I made it to our bedroom at least twice. A few times I'd make it only halfway up the stairs, but only because you would make me laugh and I'd start to drop you.

I can still hear your laughter. I wish I could hear mine.

Exsanguination

I just don't understand why the higher power, whatever force that rules the universe, won't take you out of me. I hate that every fiber and sinew still rings with your memory.

The knife and the pills killed my soul, as did you, but didn't finish the job and take the flesh as well.

every day is like sunday

Sundays are the most difficult now.

Every Sunday we couldn't wait for you to come home from work. We would talk about what mommy wanted for dinner and whether you would be home in time to eat with us? Who would put who to bed?

Then we'd read the paper and you'd always go for the crossword first, eventually giving up and handing it to me. I never told you, but I loved that you wanted my help, as I know you have more knowledge than I.

Snapshot

After we started talking regularly at the store, I would be drive up Phillips Street to work and occasionally see you leaving your house to walk to work. It always made me happy to see you, that smile, as you crossed to Elam Street.

I kept wishing I had the nerve to ask you out.

you just move forward while i watch your tail lights fade

Your voice is so matter of fact on the phone, asking me if I want this or that, it's a wonder we were ever close.

How many times do I have to tell you that I do not want anything that reminds me of our relationship? Given that I want the wedding album you probably wonder why I don't want the etching your mother gave me when we got engaged. Well, knowing that you are not sentimental, here it is:

We each received one as a gift from your mom, and they hung together on the living room wall for ten years. I cannot bear to see them split apart.

Digging in the Dirt

i wrote this on 7/10/97, a week before you asked me out.


7/10/97 for A** at different drummer

strange how the day keeps you
warm in the kindness of its sun
uncertain in the slow breathing of its clouds
opening and closing upon you,
as if to say "now i will swallow you,
your happiness, your completeness,
and leave you only the heaviness of rain."

then, it changes its mind, opens and comforts you
with it's burning orange eye, restoring you,
straightening you with its hands

when you speak to me, it is like this:
your beautiful smiles and lovely hesitance
return me to the sky, where angels with
tattooed wings kiss in dark coffee shops.

Your spring to my winter

i always found it interesting that i had written something for you two years before we started dating. i came, across it shortly after we fell in love. My notes said, "for amy at different drummer." It's not the best thing i've written, but clearly i was drawn to you.

5/12/95

i hold this cold within me year after year
i am one season: darkness, grey winter tears
six months at a time.

today, a warm finger of sunlight
stirred the ground inside, i cannot hide
your smiles find me like sun dripped light

gardening

Your gardens always made you so happy. Hands in the dirt, weeding, planning them for the season.

Even with a dirt streaked face, and old clothes, you looked so lovely, that smile when you noticed me watching you puttering in the yard.

And when they came, the flowers and plants seem to lift up the house, to a whole new light.

Two weeks ago I took off my wedding ring and gave it to you. Ever since them the thumb on my left hand looks for it throughout the day. Today I noticed that the indentation is starting to fade.

Mother & Child

I haven't wanted to talk about this, as it is the pinnacle of painful memories.

When my days would be bad, I would remember how you looked when both Lucy and Chelsea were born and they put them in your arms. Your mother captured the moments perfectly: you looked down on them with such love. Lucy's photo in particular is most expressive, because we had talked at length about her coming, our wanting to meet her,see what she would be like.

Why am I the only one of us who sees this and misses us?

Little birds

Saturday was one of the worst days ever. Packing up my things and going through photographs, I had to take a break every once in awhile and walk around, crying. It annoys me that you are still so much within me.

While the photographs caused much of the anguish, I found certain memories pleasant, such as our trip the butterfly museum in Houston. I had forgotten about that small bird landing on my shoulder, shortly before (after?) I asked you to marry me.

Surgery

You just don't understand.

Whenever I talk with you, on the phone or in person, I disconnect and start sobbing. Even a simple conversation about what time I will be visiting the girls sends searing knives into my heart.

I keep thinking they will surgically remove you from me, my one wish, but all they do is open me and let me bleed.

Falling Away

It's already becoming ugly. Not that I am surprised- your pride has been hurt, and that is one characteristic I have always known is your fatal flaw.

With every exchange, each memory of of us sours.

Well, with you- you just "go forward". Me, I don't mind looking backwards once in awhile....

and remember you laying on a blanket in our living room one night when I returned home, candles burning, smiling at me. Always so lovely.

Ghosts

On another of our early dates we laid on a blanket at the town beach and just talked for a couple of hours. You asked me what books I liked and told me yours. It was a beautiful summer evening and I thought to myself,

"Here is someone I can talk with for the rest of my life."

I suppose we will still talk, but without that anchor of love for one another. You're always a great conversationalist, so I am sure I'll enjoy it.

Flowers for a grave

I was inspired last night to leave you roses.... I had dismissed this before, as in the past when such actions were done you did not seem impressed... bad habit I have assuming this type of thing.

But as I traveled to your car, roses in hand, I felt connected to my past and future. I felt so good when I realized what I had been missing in our relationship, and hoped you would see that as well in my leaving them for you.

You did not.


"I know that you don't like the email, but it's late and I am not going to call you now. I am not sure how to take the roses, I would love to take them as a very sweet gesture and reminder of what we had, who we are, who we were, and a promise of our future, no matter what it is, but I fear that this is was attempt to "win" me back. That makes me angry. I would have loved those flowers after I confronted you with the emails to Katie, but you did not see them necessary then-I don't want you to be sad, but I don't know what to do. You cry to my mother-she makes me feel guilty-I resent living so close-it doesn't go well.

C****, I love you and always will. I will never keep you away from our house and our girls, I don't want that, and I will work very hard to make it this way. I simply do not love you the same way that I did-I see things differently, and I feel working on things will bring us right back to where we are, and I cannot do this twice. I hurt, just like you and I just want it to stop. I am sorry if it feels rushed to you-the clarity I have now comes from many nights alone, seeing our relationship from beginning to end, and I like you, still love the beginning, long for the beginning, you were the first person, the only person, I loved as a whole person, completely aware of myself and confident and self-reliant, and not totally dependent on another person. You will always be that person, that love. I don't want to take any of that away.

We have a life together always because of our girls-no one can take that away and who would want to? I just think we need to start to think about our future, maybe not being quite so together.

"How shall I go in peace without sorrow?......And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."

-the prophet

-a****"

That's that about that?

You are being so sweet and understanding with my inability to accept the divorce. I can't say it's for the best, but I guess it's the best for you.

I will not accept it... you are inside me so profoundly that I refuse to let go.

Listing

I never considered the happiest days of my life, not to any great length; I have never listed them, just knew as I was in them that they were beyond special.

The birth of L***, the birth of C****** and our wedding day are my top three. Number four is playing live with the Tripod Cats in June 1997. Number five is the day you left me a message on my answering machine asking me out. Not sure about any others... pretty sure my last day of student teaching is in the top ten.

And while I have held these moments closely, why weren't they enough to stop our deterioration, my trespass?

Again, no answer, just a memory: you walking towards the church, your dress and hair and flowers moving down the green way, and for the hundredth time I thanked God for sending you to me.

Divorce is just a word until it happens to you

I guess it's official.

I thought that I had more time... you had implied that the separation would be so we can figure out what we both wanted. And you asked me to wait until the play was over. Patiently I waited, wanting to talk with you at length about it, but didn't. You had "too much on your plate."

There never was enough room on that plate for me, so why did I think there would be now?

So, now we unleash the lawyers to dismantle the love story.

a perfect honeymoon

You have had to bear with me over the years as I expressed regret for various aspects of how I acted in our 11 years: being a little too eager on our first date, not using better words when I asked you to marry me, the first night of our honeymoon in that awful Woods Hole hotel.

But... the rest of it was exactly what I wanted. Rainy days on Martha's Vineyard, talking and sleepily enjoying each other after the madness of planning a wedding.

If I had a way to take back what I did, I wouldn't waste it on that, and instead I'd go back to that week when my future was secure, my old age spent on sleepy days with you.

i can't make you love me

This should be my mantra, whenever our past closes in on me and envelops me.

Photographs not for viewing

I have noted the photos around our house I cannot look at anymore.

1. Both us in the gazebo in Houston, your head resting on my shoulder, a few hours after I proposed to you.
2. Me holding a newborn Lucy and kissing the top of her head
3. The two sepia portraits of you holding the girls that hang in the living room.

Actually, I want to look at them but know that i shouldn't, like the temptation of falling for a woman who flatters you.

Things Mean A Lot at the Time

I am concerned about how easy it is most days. Both of us seem to have fit into new routines very comfortably, as though the strands that once tethered us were never there.

I cannot stop wishing, several times a day, that you had cared about me, made room in your life for me, because in spite of that I am losing an amazing person in my life.

goodnight nobody

Reading this book was more difficult than ever before; it's maudlin tone became my soundtrack as i read the words aloud to Chelsea.

i miss the breathing of our house at night. Where i am now is a breathing that is unfamiliar to me, not nearly as reassuring as our house is.

Unfreezing

Not that I ever thought this would be easy, but today was particularly emotional. And each time my eyes fill and my cheeks become wet within seconds, I ask, "Does this mean I regret ending the marriage?"

The answer is never "yes" or "no".

It's a memory of you holding Lucy as a baby those first days after her birth, and we looked upon ourselves as a true family, as though the three of us could take on the world because of our love for one another.

It's a memory of you dressing in the morning, smiling at me across the bedroom.

It's a memory of a dance class, in spite of my lack of rhythm and two left feet.

There are just so many I feel like my heart will burst.

Rearview Mirroring

My favorite times were when you did not know I was watching, as you knitted, watched television, spoke on the phone. I marveled at your profile, memorizing how your hair fell on your shoulders, and would test myself in recalling.

It was too late then, just like it's too late now.

Anne Sexton

Going into our bedroom is the worst, and I avoid it for as long as I can put it off. Not because of memories of lovemaking, but because of sleeping beside one another, which I have known for some time, is the ultimate pleasure of being committed to another human being.

Waking throughout the night and watching you sleep, feeling you stir as morning approaches, meeting in bed to read over one another's shoulder.

With apologies to Anne Sexton: "The bed is an operating table where my dreams slice me to pieces."

Going North then South

By the time i reached the Massachusetts and Vermont border, it came to me that we would no longer be husband and wife again. The feeling was so clear I was taken aback by it; i had to question whether or not it came from me or to me, as it was so uncomfortable.

Then a memory, a small one. I have had hundreds of them over the last few weeks, some purposely summoned as a way to check myself. None of them made me regret what i did, but this one caused me to remember in a way I hadn't before.

That jaded story about my encounter while away at a conference where I decided to not stay overnight with a woman who had had a boyfriend, in spite of tremendous symbiosis between us. For this, I spent months feeling like an idiot, the last ethical being on earth.

Then you came to me, and it was so clear that you were my gift from the universe, the ultimate karmic reward. Why else would a woman so intelligent, creative and overwhelmingly lovely want to be with me?

The Hard Part

You almost always have the best phrased responses.

I found this out as we sat on the wall that ran along your neighborhood beach. We were kissing, talking, just enjoying being with one another. I said that I thought I was falling in love with you, and you said, "That was the hard part. The easy part was falling in love with you."

Any remaining doubt about loving you fell away.

an eleven year walk

My mind wanders, purposely or not, to our first walk on Narragansett beach. I hesitate to call it our first date, as it seemed more than that: immediately I was comfortable with you, and loved how you talked incessantly, unselfconsciously.

It was the third time in my life I was so excited to be with a woman, but the first time I felt as though i was with the sweet angel from intermittent dreams I had had since a child.