She spoke to me with the familiarity of shared intimacy, reminiscing about our time together, and I knew she must have been the love of my life. I didn't recognize her, though, or the restaurant we found ourselves in, or the view outside the huge window beside us. This must be a dream, then.
"But there's no point in looking back, is there? There was good and there was bad and...Still. If only things had been..." She lapsed into silence, then broke it by launching into a trivial anecdote for the benefit of the other people suddenly at our table. Family? Hers, apparently. I didn't recognize them, either.
They seemed to be fond of me, though, laughing at my jokes with more than mere politeness, occasionally asking what happened between us, we seemed like such a good thing, what went wrong? She shook her head at these times, and I couldn't answer because I didn't know.
Food was served, and outside the window the sun shone and rain beat down. I looked at my watch and though it was blank, I said it was getting late, I needed to go. All at the table said their farewells, I passed through the crowded restaurant and was surprised to see my car--a turquoise Buick Electra--sitting alone in the parking lot.
Something creaked behind me, and a voice said, "Um--?"
I turned. It was her, of course. "I just wanted to say..." she began, and suddenly I woke up, tossing in my bed, attempting to recall her, what she looked like, who she was.