I can see her so clearly. She was standing above me. In the window behind her, the sun was setting. Her red hair glowed, ringed in a scarlet light. She smiled at me and my heart melted.

It's been three decades and two marriages since that fateful day. At least I wish it had been a fateful day. In reality, it was just a day. Here I am in the autumn of my life, lonely but not alone, remembering again what should've been a turning point in my life.

She was a waitress. That's it. It was the first time I'd ever seen her. It was also the last. I cannot describe the feelings that surged through me. I was a coward and barely spoke a word, just nodded and smiled and stared like some sort of fool into her emerald eyes.

I have thought of her more than any person in my life. I cannot explain it. I don't know what it was about her or what it was about me, but she is like a ghost haunting my every moment. I have never thought, since that day, that love at first sight did not exist or that it was a cliché. It has not been a source of anything but pain and regret until now.

Now, the thought of her brings a smile to my face. A sad smile, true, but a smile nonetheless.

I close my eyes and I am bathed in her scarlet light and I imagine her loving me. She will always be smiling. I will always return her smile. We are both young and ready for happiness. She does not see a small tear welling in my eye. She will never have to
consider the harsh reality of life. She will know nothing but joy. I will see to that.

I open my eyes and she is gone. The world is gray and so am I. I am not sad. She will return when I sleep. The idea of her will comfort me. She is always there. She is a soothing thought in a cruel world. She will be mine forever.