The next day I sat on deck and thought of my first and only love, and wondered how he was, if he was still alive, if he was still married.
Over the years I’d sometimes go to where he worked and linger, looking for him or his wife.
The last time was about twenty five years ago. I’d reached just beyond my ‘Seven Year Itch’. I marched into the building and asked for him. I know it was stupid and reckless and ridiculous.
I was told he had left the job years ago.
I had haunted his old office unaware he wasn’t there.
I felt stupid, felt as if I had lost something. Then I searched phonebooks for his name, her name, trying both her maiden and married, but found nothing.
It became obvious that after he had married he and his wife had moved away. I could do an online search, but never bothered.
Instead,I settled to my lot in life. As a diversion, I invented all sorts of scenarios of running into him and great romance.
But romance is for those below forty. Those who can still taste youth and wonder and imagination.