The Years of Living Vicariously

Lu places her gum behind her ear and kisses me. We embrace. There’s resignation in the act. Relief. Years of tension melting as we tussle in the back row.

I’ve dreamed that one day she’d want me. I’ve waited for a hug for bringing champagne to her dissertation. A kiss for feeding a stray dog for her. Acknowledgement for a picnic in Ville Platte, a perfect day.

I'm no longer dreaming. No longer an old-young man splattered by dreams and drink. Wandering the streets nights. Being invisible.

The snow and wind are terrible now, but we don’t notice the buffeting or the announcements or the scurrying people in the aisles. Everything’s a blur. To me people are just blobs in coats and hats.
We kiss. The 747 goes down fast over the bay, smoke fills the cabin.

I will ask her marry me if we get off this plane alive.