I mistook you.

How’s that?

Thought you were somebody else. This woman I used to know.

Who’s that?

A woman. Young. Many years ago. Brunette. Vermont. Some New England state.  Could have been Maine. She had brown eyes. Used to laugh at my jokes.

Uh huh.

We’d talk for hours. Like this. In coffee shops. Bars. Parks around town. Two people sitting on a bench. Talking.

What about?

Things. Favorite movies. Books. Religion. Past lives.

Hmm.

She spoke about being an Indian princess in another life. Said she bathed in the Ganges River. Before it got dirty. She’d smile. Said her grandmother was now a cow. She was a vegetarian. 

I see.

I’d call her sometimes at midnight.  Just to see if she was dreaming. Hear her voice.

Bet she loved that.

She always told me goodnight. Said, get some sleep. I’d just lay there and think of her.

What happened to her?

Not sure. One day, she was gone. Her phone was disconnected.We no longer met in coffee shops, bars, park benches.

Sorry.

No. It’s my fault.

Sounds like you loved her too much.

Yeah. I guess so.