When I was ten, I dreamed of a girl with whom I believed I would, one day, fall in love. She was beautiful — tall, dark hair, brown eyes, olive complexion, slender, very loving and kind. In my boyish mind’s eye, when we looked at each other, love burned between us.
At night when alone in my bed I would sometimes kiss my pillow, as if my dream-girl were actually in my arms; I was practicing for the day when I could show her how much I truly loved her.
Was it a coincidence that in that very same year, you were born — my tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed, olive-complexioned, loving and kind dream girl?*
*dedicated to Michele René