I run the memory through my head. It seems as close to perfect as anything seems to get.
We’re sitting there, talking, laughing, goofing around and just plainly having fun. I feel like I can be myself; that no matter how awful my day was, being with him like this would make it all better. And it does.
He’s talking to me, being him, and I’m sitting there smiling more naturally than ever. He’s teasing me and joking around, and I laugh for real for the first couple times in a while. Even when we sit in silence, it’s the most comfortable I’ve been while surrounded by dozens of people.
I know it’s horrible to think this, but it seemed perfect. It seems as if that is how it’s suppose to be.
Reality check: It’s not.