Ignoring intervening decades, I decided to find and talk to my high school Lover. I found her easily in dreamscape, and she immediately recognized me.

She hesitated for a moment, and, in what had suddenly become our dream, we both immediately faced the interminable chasm question: will she or won’t she?

She remained coy during the pause, but I drew strength from her immediate smile and recognition. I had sensed her and had heard her without sound, just as we had sensed and had undressed one another decades ago.

“I knew you’d show up,” she said; although I was hoping to hear, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Well?” I asked.

“Well, it’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, but we’re both here now.”

“Obviously.”

“And you’re not running.”

“Why would I run from you?”

“I don’t know; they always do.”

“I’m not them.”

“No. That’s why I’m here.”

“Hoping?”

“Yes hoping.”

“And what, exactly are you hoping for?”

“I’m hoping that you’ll stay.”

“Where would I go?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re hoping I’ll stay here with you instead of going somewhere else?”

“Yes.”

“Why would I go somewhere else when I can be here with you?”

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