Not The One

This much I know.

I remember Janine; like me fresh liberated from a provincial home town. I remember a weekend in Brighton; two young nervous lovers. I remember a grey mundane drizzly day without promise….and watching a glorious sunset from the pier. I remember as the sun gradually began to brush behind the sea, how Janine’s hand gradually began to brush against mine. I remember that night, how we swept from bar to bar, our talk jumping from subject to subject. I remember crashing into my bed, lapsing into sleep immediately. I remember waking next day as the sun crept up…and Janine crept into my room. I remember making love to her for the first time, and I remember how we collapsed into each other’s arms and into sleep.

That much I know for sure, the rest is conjecture.