How ordinary.” Eventually, I did move on and let the memories just be.
Three years later, when a mutual friend was visiting Santorini, bookstore guy and I hopped on Face Time together.
He was, in fact, single, and we were hitting it off.
Back in my real life in the District, the men I usually dated ranged from boring lawyers to interesting-yet-flailing creatives.
Later that night, after a climb through an old castle and more carousing with customers at the bookstore, he told me to hang on to our time together, saying: “When you’re back in your real life, whenever you’re sad, just know that I’m a little bit in love with you.” I didn’t say it back, but I was, too.
When we said goodbye the next morning, he told me to write to him and come find him someday.
There was no one who’d done something as sexy and risky as opening a bookstore in a foreign country years before a financial crisis.