(Another story I sorely wish had been a scene in a film instead. It would have made a lot more sense, and it would have been – in my opinion – a bit more poignant. Oh well.)
“What are you thinking of?”
It was quiet as the boardwalk slowly emptied itself of people.
I turned to him.
“Someone I knew.”
He laughed. “Come on now. You’ve got to give me more than that.”
“He was not handsome. He was not unforgettable. He was not rich. He was not famous. He was not particularly smart, funny, charming or confident. He was not everything I wanted, but he was the man I loved.”
“Who was he?”
“He was you.”
I laid a hand on his cheek, then, and kissed him on the lips before I said goodbye.