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”“And you do?”“Who knows?” she said. “I only have your side of things, which, as I’m sure you would admit, is not the whole truth. But yes, I think, if you’ve been reasonably accurate in the details you’ve provided, I have a pretty good idea of what it was like for her.”“So,” I said, “I guess this isn’t going anywhere. At least we can say we shared a nice meal.”She smiled. “Oh, no. No, I think there’s a good chance this may go somewhere. I said I think I understand your wife, but I’m not like her. I have my own issues, which, if you agree, we can unpack some other time. And, in any case, you’re going to need to ... extricate yourself from your current situation, before we go much farther. But I stand by my original assessment: you’re a keeper—for the right girl.”Not long after that, our appetizers came out, and we spent most of the rest of the time talking about the meal, and what we liked, and places we had been to, where we’d enjoyed the food, and other, relatively light. The reality was that Ruth had given me her blessing, and had waited (and maybe still waited?) for me or someone to firmly confront her fears and take her by the hand. By now, I was in a semi-dream state, having reached that strange level of consciousness somewhere between sleeping and waking. This was the moment that I realized I could control my dreams, and that I was in fact being pulled into one as I lingered between states of awareness. I was seeing through my younger-self’s eyes, reliving one of many encounters with Ruth that had almost turned physical decades earlier. Yet I retained my perspective and knowledge of what as to come in my future, which meant that I was effectively time traveling and doing it inside of my own younger-self’s body. I looked down at myself. I was thin once again, and dressed as I had in the 80’s, much to my embarrassment. I was sitting inside of a car and next to me was Ruth, who was driving. She had the CD player going and was listening to Pink.
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