To Sir, with Love

by Lauren Layne

I blink. “Neither of those are good stories, May.” “Sure they are. Just not happy ones. Because here’s the thing, young lady. Those sort of long-distance flirtations are all well and good, they’re memorable, but they aren’t the real deal. And if you’ve started telling yourself this is the real deal, it’s time to nip that in the bud, because that’s a fantasy. And fantasies do not warm the bed at night, nor do they help shoulder the burden of what’s going on with your business right now—Oh shit! I forgot to take the foil off the lasagna.”

The one area I’ve always thought I was in control of, the one area lived for me, by my standards, is my personal, romantic life. And I know I’m overstepping our usual topics of conversation, but I feel I’ve misstepped here as well. I’m alone, and on some level, I’ve always known that’s of my own making, but now I can’t help but wonder if there are opportunities missed, chances lost, connections I never let happen.

“You’ve got kind of an Amazonian warrior gleam in your eye, so I’m not really sure,” he admits skeptically.

“Why in God’s name would you want to piece together your future?” May asks, sounding aghast. “Half the fun’s in not knowing.”

“I think the best parts of my life so far have been in my daydreams.”