I realized in that moment that I still loved him. Not in a way that would threaten my marriage, just that I wanted the world for him. That he'd left a deep imprint on my life. That I'm a better person for having known him.
When I met John I had just begun to walk my new path. I was clean, clear and directed. I was on my way out. John was, too.
"He said that you went to school together," my mother says over the phone, long distance. "And his name is Dave," she announces victoriously, as if that is all the identification he will ever need, like "Cher."