Thirty-Two

Thirty-two years ago, on a clear Friday afternoon, I turned in my senior thesis to my advisor, and then went for a walk in a lovely green area near campus with then-Beloved-Boyfriend.  He had flown up from his desert land to my humid east-coast state to attend an end-of-year formal with me. I hadn't seen him for three or four months previously -- we were in the midst of our ultimately three-and-a-half years of long distance -- and it was a curiously calm sensation, to be together. Or perhaps it was the absence of longing to be together, that made everything seem so tranquil. We sat under a beautiful leafy tree, and he asked me a certain question. I responded, and then we walked back to campus, newly engaged. 

It was a most memorable day.