I fell in love. She had long, flowing blonde hair. She was the daughter of my mother's friends, friends
I remember that we hit it off instantly. I can't forget the smell of her skin, or how warm she was. Like vanilla and strawberries. We huddled under a blanket together. It would not be decent to explain further, but it was such a young love sort of thing.
We fell in love, after a time. We moved to Venice to make our future there. It was beautiful, our charming little house. And she sounded so hot speaking Italian.
I can remember that we married in Firenze, on a hillside. It was a simple wedding, just a few friends. An old friend of mine officiated it. She wore a spring dress, not a white dress.
I can't forget her hair, though I can't describe it. I'm rubbish at such things. We had our reception in a wonderful garden not far away.
Then I went through the years with her, in the dream. It was like watching a movie on fast-forward. We had three children; a boy, 2 girls after that.
We grew old together. And that's what I can remember.
I feel a better person for having known her, even though pretty soon I'll lose what her face looked like. Maybe I knew her name before I woke up. But I think I'm a little bit of a better person, despite, you know, not actually having known this mysterious woman.