Office romance

I've carried this question with me for over 30 years, "Did you ever become a novelist?"

I remember you talking about moving to a small town in Maine, looking out over the ocean, and writing. I'm sure you got a boat once you got there. I remember days sailing with you on the San Francisco bay. You were one of the easiest people to be with I have ever met.

At 36 you were probably you were caught off-guard by the attention of the 23 year old rebel artist in the office. I had no sense of how to be corporate (or appropriate) and lived for office humor and flirting with you. We became close in a way I hadn't known before. I adored our lunches in the park. When I think of you, I smile as big as I did then.

I was thrilled with you began dating the new editor in our office. You got married, right? And when you two moved to Maine, wasn't she pregnant? You were the kind of guy that would make an excellent father. When you got sick and she and I were both looking in on you, that's when I knew she was the right girl for you. She was in love with you. Not that I wasn't.

I loved you. I just couldn't be with you.