October: I was at Kevin’s house at this time last year. All month. The best month. My cup was full. I was on the verge of flight. Everything was lining up. Ahhh.

It felt like I could relax in love and leap into my writing life. Like I could teach yoga and writing and whatever was required and only what I desired.

I was waiting for the rest of my beautiful life to unfold before me. I’d learned to live in the moments. Like enjoying every aspect of a delicious meal, as I did when Kevin took me to Tony’s for my birthday in 2014.

Tony’s is an authentic Italian restaurant in St. Louis. It’s been around since 1946. Kevin used to take his mom there. Tony’s seems a scene out of a movie with real Italian waiters, the kind who replace a fork on a table like a magic act and report the score of the game because Kevin said (to me), “I wonder what the score is.”

And Tony’s food? Every other Italian meal could be Stouffer’s frozen lasagna in comparison. I like Stouffer’s, but the meal at Tony’s delighted me with a flush of foreign, exquisite flavors. The atmosphere, inviting art on the walls, and class without condescension was like a trip to Italy with Kevin holding my hand.

Tony’s is the kind of place I would’ve felt awkward or intimidated in in my youth. It’s a grown-up restaurant. I was in a grown-up relationship with a mature and worthy man who honored me and welcomed my authenticity. I relished that.

The same way I soaked in the fall colors in the country at Kevin’s home in St. Louis. We tried to make our togetherness like real-life (sticking to work schedules, working out, etc.). It was impossible. In each other’s company, Kevin and I were always on vacation.

That October—a month of shared morning coffee, entwined bodies, and conversations sewing us closer—tasted as sumptuous as the evening at Tony’s.

Kevin and I relaxed into our crazy, sexy, cool love. Our in-between times of seeing each other were like waiting for dessert.

Yep, I was waiting for the treat I’d become accustomed to as I anticipated his visit to my place in March. It never came. Kevin never came to my house again.

We didn’t get our dessert and why is October still on the calendar?