Last year's nostalgia

I was glad when you suggested you make me dinner. I wasn't feeling sick anymore and so I finally realized how hungry I actually was. You put on some music that I called jazz, but you said wasn't actually jazz, but whatever, it was nice . And the dinner was good, thank you, but I thought I should brush my teeth right after so I wouldn't taste like garlic when you kissed me. You said you should brush yours too, I guess because you wanted to go to bed soon, but I hoped that you would dance with me in the living room first. It would have been romantic with the music and the dim light from your lamp. So I was waiting for you to brush your teeth, swaying there, by myself, looking at your books, that funny picture of you and your grandfather - the one who I met that time - hoping you would join me. When I turned around, you were standing in the doorway watching me. It's funny that I was startled, because I had been hoping you would see me like this. I sort of stumbled over the armchair - you probably found this even more endearing. But that sweet moment when I turned around to see you standing there, with the light in the room, the hair framing your face, your eyes, I wanted that seared in my memory forever and ever. Sad, only now I realize that none of this was real and the look on your face, the one I took for smite or maybe even love, must have only been pity.