(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.”

I smiled.

“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.

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