Once upon a time a woman sat alone in her apartment, sipping wine, reading a book, nursing a broken heart. She heard a knock on her door.
“Who can that be?” she wondered. “No one buzzed to be let in the building. I don’t know any of my neighbors, except the little old lady next door. Maybe it’s her.”
She opened the door and looked straight into the friendliest, freshest eyes she’d ever seen on a man. Well, more of a boy, really. Curly, messy hair, a big smile to match the eyes, an empty bowl held in his hands.
Guy’s hair was curlier, and I never saw him wear sun glasses. Otherwise…….
That was you, Guy. Twenty-year-old you. Facing 28-year-old me for the first time. I wonder how scared you were, that moment. Actually asking me for some sugar. That was the best ruse you could come up with to meet me.
Decades later you told me that you and your next-door-neighbor bet on who would meet me first. You’d watch for me from the living room window of your apartment. The best days were when I’d park my car right