I'll never forget the look on his face when he left. He walked to the door and stopped. I stood there, left hand on the handle.

He looked so sad.

I felt like I must have looked sad.

I remember lifting my right hand and waving goodbye and watching him walk out of sight.

I shut the door, hoping that it would be like the movies, when the man walks back down the hall, knocks on the door and kisses you passionately when it opens. Instead, I stood at the window, knowing it wouldn't happen, but waiting for it anyway.