Love

I was traveling to meet my friends, we were young women, probably in our mid twenties, independent, strong, free, when I found myself stopping the car.

I felt some confusion, because I didn't know why I had stopped. 

It was dark and I got out of my car, walking over towards a streetlight on the corner. Standing there, in a pool of light in the middle of an unknown place, in the middle of the night, was a familiar figure.

We stood there mutely as recognition crept into every pore of our bodies. Taking my hand, he led me to his apartment. I walked beside him, the old familiar feeling of belonging enveloping us both.

A second floor walk up, it was simple, plain, yet very cozy. I was overwhelmed by disbelief. Was I really here? Was he really here? Did we still feel this way?

He stood with his back to me, looking out a window, pride creeping into his voice as he told me how his career was thriving. He was ordinary in every way except for that voice., a young tenor who made the world swoon, but whose love filled me with awe.

We were both confused by what was happening. It should have been unlikely at the best and impossible at the worst. 

We talked and talked and then I found myself lying next to him, my head on his chest as we continued to talk. It was a moment in time I never wanted to end.

And neither did he.

But we knew it would.

He wrote his phone number on a scrap of paper and put it in the cookie jar above the refrigerator, then went out to buy us food. When he left I retrieved the paper and put it in my pocket, knowing it made no difference.

I was standing at the window, looking out when his friends came. They had no idea who I was and I didn't feel it was my place to tell them. They were questioning me when my friends showed up at the door. I didn't know how they had found me. They couldn't imagine why I was there.

It was already over. 

I left with my friends, looking back at the room devoid of him as always. His friends, standing there, mute, confused about who I was and why I was leaving.

And now there is an old emptiness in me that I have carried forever.

Filled only in impossible moments like this.