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His brain might have forgot, but this in here—” He thumped his heart. “It won’t forget.” And with that, the tears I’d been trying not to cry fell like rain.
If not, he’ll just have to fall in love with me all over again.”
“But I felt safe with you.” I nodded. “Yeah.”
“You. Me. You make me feel calm. I trust you. I dunno why. But I’m calm when you’re here.”
“So when I go home,” he said, slow blinking, almost asleep. “I go with you.”
“They’re not you.”
“Are you like some kind of perfect guy? Did they bring out a perfect guy in the last five years that I don’t know about?”
I told my heart to wait, to be patient, and to give him all the room and support he needed. Because if I was being truthfully honest, I needed it too. Having his head on my shoulder, his hand in mine, helped me heal too.
He wanted to date me. He wanted to go on actual dates, and he wanted to know more about me. He liked holding my hand and he liked my beard. He blushed like he used to when we first met, when we were first together, and he was nervously excited about being with me. And that gave me butterflies.
No, I didn’t know him. But I liked him, and I trusted him. I couldn’t explain why, I just did.
the wing dream was comfort and safety. It was love.
And he was my Harley Davidson poster. He was my wings dream, what my heart yearned for. What my heart was trying to show me.
“My heart remembers you.”
