“I want meatloaf,” you said. I laughed at you, because it was such a random thing to say. “Meatloaf?” You grinned and said, “Yeah. Doesn’t that sound good? Meatloaf and mashed potatoes.” You sat up on the dock and handed me my dry shirt. “Let’s go to the diner.” You’d had more to drink than me, so you asked me to drive. It wasn’t like us to drink and drive, but I think we felt invincible under that moonlight. We were young and in love, and surely no one dies when they’re at their happiest.
