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I woke up after what seemed like hours later. I had visions of Dave parading in my brain; images from long ago, from a life that the both of us left behind willingly. Ellie later told me I was actually only out for about 30 seconds.

As I opened my eyes, two faces looked down at me anxiously.

"Sweetie, are you okay? No, don't move. Lie still." Ellie's voice sounded like it was coming from a mega-phone.

"Urrnnnnnn. What happened?"

"You fainted," Dave was looking down at me, grinning almost proudly.

"You're crazy, I've never fainted in my life. I'm fine." I went to stand up, my head protesting in about 30 different ways. I felt groggy and heavy. I tentatively touched the back of my head and applied a small amount of pressure. "Ow! Did I hit my head?"

"It kind of slammed backwards after you fell," Ellie had an arm wrapped around my upper back, supporting me. "Here, have some water." She gently pressed a pint glass into my hand. I had a vague awareness that our bartender friend had brought it to her.

I took a sip, and looked at Dave through one eye. "Dave, what in the hell are you doing here?" I was pissed.

"So you're not happy to see me?" He looked wounded and tired.

"Dave, I thought you were dead. They told me you were dead! Dead people don't just show up in Wellesley, Massachusetts unannounced, asking their ex-girlfriends if they're happy to see them! How are you not dead?"

"I was dead. Sort of. It's a long story."

"Well. We're in a bar. It's the night before Thanksgiving. What else are we going to do?"
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Dave, or David, Burch was my high school sweetheart. We grew up together playing little league, climbing trees, attempts at building our own tree houses, pooling money to buy comics and bubble gum at the liquor store around the corner. I beat up Will Rant in the 4th grade when Will told Dave he looked like a metal freak (he had head gear at the time). Dave beat up Will Rant for me in the 6th grade when Will told me that I was the ugliest girl he had ever seen. Dave was there for me when my parents divorced, and I was there for him when his sister was hit by a car and died of internal injuries. He was my best friend, and I loved him.

So when Dave mustered up all of his courage to ask me out in high school, it just seemed to make sense. There was no other boy I liked so well as him, no other boy that I ever really cared about. Dave was also really good looking - Jennifer Murietta, the most popular girl in school, had a well known crush on Dave. There was no way I was going to let my best friend date the likes of Jennifer Murietta, so I said yes. And we were together all four years of high school. Formal dances, home coming games, his wrestling matches, my basketball games - we were always there for each other. Our senior year, we were voted "Best Couple," a photo of us smiling happily in the yearbook.

When it came time to go to college, we decided that going to separate schools would be good for the both of us. Dave wanted to become an architect, and I wanted to become a writer. It would be best, we reasoned, to follow our dreams and love each other, regardless of distance.

And then I met Kitty. And I realized WHY no other boys held my attention, and why I was never attracted to any but Dave, and that even my attraction to him was based in a fraternal, platonic love, rather than a passion for him. I called him from school and told him about Kitty. He didn't say anything except, "Okay." He hung up the phone, and I wasn't sure what to think. The conclusion I came to was needing to give him space. So I didn't call, and neither did he, and I let the throws of first love envelop me to the point of forgetting anything other than what I was experiencing.

I came home for spring break, and went over to Dave's house, hoping that we could talk face-to-face, so that I could apologize and maybe even try to explain. When his mother opened the door, she looked surprised to see me. She said hello just as warmly as ever, but she was clearly confused. I asked if Dave was home, and she looked even more puzzled. Didn't I know, she asked, that Dave enlisted in the Marines?

No. I didn't. She wrote down the address of where he was attending boot camp. I wrote, and I wrote, but he never answered me.

Over a year later, I heard from Dave's father than he joined an elite division of the Marines, and had been sent off to the Middle East on a specialty mission. He wouldn't even be able to contact his family. I tried not to think about him, but I couldn't help it. My best friend was somewhere that I couldn't follow, and I wasn't sure what do. Six months after he shipped out, the Marines informed Mr. & Mrs. Burch that Dave was missing in action. Another year went by, and the Marines declared him deceased. No one else from his division had survived whatever mission they had been sent to do. There was a funeral, and I watched a flag-covered casket being lowered into the ground. I read a passage of Tennyson's In Memoriam; I said my good byes, and I started moving on with my life.

Until this moment, Dave had been my one regret.

And now, here he was, sitting in front of me; the only one of his squad to survive.
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"So, here I am."

I looked at him, pained and confused and sad and sorry. Then I wrapped my arms around him tightly. Finally, I said, "It's been years, Dave. You've been alive this whole time - where have you been?"

"I was in a vet hospital for a long time, but I didn't remember anything - I couldn't have told you my birthday, or my parent's names. And then one day, I did remember. It all came back to me, just like that. But I wasn't sure if I should come back. Everyone thought I was dead. The military showed me photos of the funeral - there was even one of you reading Tennyson and crying. And I looked at that photo and thought I'd be causing pain all over again if I came back. So I stayed away."

"What did you do? How did you survive?"

"I worked for the government for awhile, in a closed facility. But after what I went through - I was sick and tired of taking orders, and figured I had paid the government enough. So I took my pension and I traveled, worked odd jobs. I was a fisherman in Maine for awhile, I worked security in Cleveland for a couple years, and even made my way to British Columbia and worked as a lumber jack. That's where I was right before I came here."

"So why now? Why did you come out here after all this time."

"This is where the story gets ... interesting."

"Dave, you're back from the dead. What could be more interesting than that?"

"I had a dream."

I paused, waiting for more. Realizing he wasn't going to give it, I pushed him further. "A dream ... as in Martin Luther King? As in ... Don Quixote? What kind of dream?"

"It was about you."

"And....anything else, Dr. Cryptic? Am I the anti-christ that my aunt predicted?

"No. You're a super hero."
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I thought that perhaps Dave's medication was mixing with his glass of scotch, so I let it drop. He didn't have any place to stay in Wellesley, and Ellie insisted he come home with us. Throughout the entire reveal of Dave's missing life, Ellie sat right next to me, her hand on my knee in quiet support. Ellie drove home, which given the condition of my head, seemed like a wise idea. I looked over at her, beaming gratitude from every pore of my skin. I wanted to get home and kiss her until we fell asleep.

We pulled into the driveway and put the car in park. I picked up one of Ellie's bags, and was stopped by her hand. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm grabbing your bags!"

"No you're not."

"I'm not?"

"No. You're going to go unlock the door, and then go lie down. You shouldn't lift anything in your condition."

"My 'condition?' What condition is that? You'd think I was pregnant." I gave Dave a wry smile, knowing he'd smile in a sign of solidarity.

Instead, he remained neutral, if not slightly worried and took Ellie's side. "She's right, Sluggo. Concussions are nothing to mess around with."

"Concussion? What concussion? I have a tiny bump on my head. I'm fine."

"Regardless, Angie, you're going inside." I didn't move. "Now, please."

I gave them both a scowl, then walked to the front door. The rhythmic thuds of dog tails pounded against the wall as I worked the key into the lock. "Okay girls, I'm coming." As soon as I opened the door, two black masses rushed toward me, throwing me against the wall. "I know, I know. It's so exciting! Mommy's home! Just wait till you meet Dave."

"Just wait till who meets - mmmmph!"

"Dave, meet Gertrude and Dame Maggie."

"These aren't dogs, Angie, they're horses!" Gertrude, the Newfoundlander was wagging herself around him in circles, while Maggie, the border collie was trying to herd him to the couch.

As soon as Ellie walked in the door, the over-joyed, over-grown horses pounced over and licked her up and down. "Hi babies! I'm home!"

I made up the spare room for Dave, while Angie fixed some tea in the kitchen. Dave was looking at the pictures and pieces of art hanging on our walls, as though he were looking for traces of me and who I had become. He walked into the spare bedroom as I finished tucking in the comforter.

"It's a nice place you have here, Angie. A nice life."

"Thanks Dave. I'm awfully fond it."

"I've missed you Angie."

"I've missed you too, Davey. I've missed you a lot." I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the actual-ness of him, the reality that he was alive. I started to cry.

Ellie walked through the door, holding two mugs. I backed away from Davey slowly. "Hi," I sniffed.

"Hi," she said. she handed Davey a mug, and then gave me mine. "We should go to bed, we have to be up early."

"Speaking of that, what time are you leaving? I'll call for a cab to pick me up."

I was about to protest, when Ellie said, "Don't be silly. You're coming with us to my parent's house for Thanksgiving."

Dave smiled, and nodded slightly. "Okay. Thanks, Ellie. It's been a long time since I had a real Thanksgiving."

"Good night, Davey. We'll see you in the morning." I said and grabbed Ellie's hand and started walking out of the room.

"Good night, Ladies."
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Ellie and I lay in bed, arms and legs entwined. My eyes were closed, my lips kissing hers softly.

I stopped for a moment. "Are you okay with all of this?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well ... my only ex-boyfriend and best friend, who's supposed to be dead, shows up out of nowhere, at a bar we've never been in before, that we just happened to stop into on a random Wednesday. This was not a run-of-the-mill day."

"No, it certainly wasn't. But there's nothing for me to be okay about. He's important to you, so he's important to me. It's as simple as that."

"Are you sure?"

She kissed me.

I stopped worrying, and fell asleep in Ellie's arms.