Page 113 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me

It was almost as if the universe was trying to send me a message by ripping away everything I cherished.

Forget him. Move on.Stop holding on to something that’s long gone.

Gabriel held my hand in both of his and brushed his thumb over my ring finger. “How are you now?”

I stared at the half-eaten egg roll next to a plate of ropa vieja. As usual, Gabriel had ordered too much food. “I’m good. I’m doing really well. Art saved me. Or maybe I saved myself.”

I went to therapy. I took self-defense classes. And then I picked up the pieces and rebuilt my life. Without Gabriel.

After two years of travelling, living in foreign cities and chasing my dreams, I was stronger. Braver. More resilient.

But here we were again, holding hands across the table under the hum of fluorescent lights in a diner with an Enrique Iglesias song playing from the crackling speakers.

And just like that I was twenty-two years old again, sitting across from him at the Kiev, my heart and mind at war.

A love like that only comes around once in a lifetime.

If you’re lucky.

My eyes met his. He was still so beautiful to me. With his soulful eyes and messy hair and big, sloppy heart.

The clock rewound, and I was transported back to another time and place.

The giddy highs of first love and the thrill of finding your person in a sea of billions.

Late-night conversations in 24-hour diners about everything and nothing.

Lazy mornings in bed, exploring each other’s bodies and laughing for no good reason.

Running up the stairs at the end of each day, heart beating in my throat, a kaleidoscope of butterflies flapping their wings, running into his arms like it had been years instead of hours.

“We were good together, weren’t we?” he asked as if he could read my mind. As if he knew I was tripping down memory lane, replaying the highlight reel of forgotten dreams.

He bit the corner of his mouth, unsure, because he really had no idea, and even three and a half years later it still broke my heart that all his beautiful memories were gone.

“Yeah, we were good together,” I said, trying to speak past the lump in my throat. “We made each other better and we just…fit.”

“Let’s try this again.” Gabriel stood up from his seat then slid back into the booth and leaned his forearms on the table. “Hi, old friend. It’s good to see you again. Has it really been three years or only three minutes?”

“Hey, old friend. It’s been a while.”

He smiled.

I smiled too.

We picked up our forks and started eating, like we’d given ourselves permission to ease into a warm familiarity and just enjoy each other’s company. If only for a little while.

“So you live in Montauk now?” I only knew that because I had to ask Sean for his address.

“Yeah. I bought a beach shack, planted a wild meadow, and adopted a chocolate Lab with big, sad eyes.”

“Wow. You’re a dog owner now. That’s wild.” But I could picture him with a dog. Getting slobbery, puppy dog kisses. Lavishing all his time and attention on his adopted pet.

Gabriel had a whole new life I knew virtually nothing about.

It had been easier to move on with my life if I didn’t have to hear about him all the time, so I’d asked our mutual acquaintances not to mention his name.

After he left, I used to see him everywhere. Walking down the street carrying a guitar. Waiting in line at the coffee shop we used to frequent. Browsing the shelves at a used bookstore.