I Can Dream About You

We liked this bench by the lake. It was quiet and secluded and all the time we’d come here to sit and think and be together, no one else had ever come.

So when she called me an hour ago and told me she had to meet me here to talk, I didn’t really know what to think. I know what my own personal insecurities whispered in my ear but I thought, I hoped, they weren’t true.

Ours was the most unlikely of love stories. I’d been living through a dark month of the soul after a particularly bad break up. It struck me like a ton of bricks and there were nights when I just sat in front of the television blankly flipping through channels until the sun dawned on the next day. There was no hope in that dawn, just another day I was alive.

One of those endless nights I was flipping through the channels when I happened across an old movie called Streets of Fire. Michael Pare. Diane Lane. Rick Moranis. Willem Dafoe. One of those old 80s action movies that, by modern standards, was so bad it was good. I wanted distraction and this was as good as any so I settled in.

Near the end of the movie there’s a scene when Michael Pare’s anti-hero rides off into the sunset.