You Loved Me Once, a Summer Long, Long Ago
A memory
June 2007
It was summer when we fell in love. Of course it was. The long nights. The golden light. How could it have happened any other way?
You were just a boy back then, in your early twenties. I was a woman, about to turn 31.
I felt some shame in this, as if there was something indecent about dating someone so much younger than I was — and my little brother’s best friend. But I felt determined — defiant, even. If our genders had been reversed, no one would have cared. The younger you were, the more I would have been congratulated, had I been a man.
So as a woman, I forged ahead, ignoring our age difference, totally submitting to the intoxication of your attentions.
The first time I knew we would cross the line from friends to lovers was the evening we went to the Diana Krall concert with a group of friends. Do you remember that? In that large circle of people, you and I sat at the fringe, in our own little world.
When the breeze blew across the cool waters of the river, you put your jacket around my shoulders.
We decided to go out to eat afterwards with my brother. When we arrived at the booth, I slid into a seat, already disappointed. I had guessed you would sit across…
