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There was no way Julie was going to leave her beach scene in Southern California, and she was just too sex-driven for a long-term relationship. We ended things and I moved on.For a while, I would get an occasional text, innocent in nature: I miss you or Thinking of you.After a bit, they got edgy and weird: I fucked a guy last night but his dick was nowhere near as good as yours. Eventually, I stopped returning her texts and they trailed off but never really ceased entirely.It became clear she had never let go.As I am staring down at this latest message, my phone begins to buzz; once again jolting me from a trance. It’s my wife, Linda. I swipe to answer.“Hey, baby.”“Hi, hun. You busy?”“When am I not? What’s up?”“I’ll get right to it then. I got a friend request on Facebook this morning from your ex, Julie.” She pauses. “Do you know anything about that? Is she fucking crazy?”“Fuck. I honestly don’t know, baby. She sent me a weird text today, too. Just ignore her, okay? She’ll go. Her steps were nearly stomps, but she was able to balance in her heels. In sharp contrast to her earlier snarky cheer, the Luna that didn’t notice others looking was one who fidgeted a lot, ran her hands through her hair, looked around her a lot at nothing in particular, and occasionally would let out a heavy sigh. He walked towards her, concerned. When she noticed him, she smiled again and grabbed his hand, guiding him towards the stairs that led to the Hawthorne Bridge. Before long, they were on the bridge deck, cars passing by them and rocking the deck. Robin was always unsettled by how much the bridge shook underfoot every time he crossed it. He squeezed her hand as she led him directly into the center, where they could gaze at the Willamette River illuminated by the city lights. ‘Beautiful,’ she mused. He nodded in agreement. She let go of his hand and ran hers through her ponytail, a few specks of glitter flowing lazily through the air. Robin took a sideways look at her,.
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