"So," they would say, "Are congratulations in order? We've heard you're getting engaged."

He responded the same way every time. "No, not anymore." And while they opened and closed their mouths to think of something appropriate to say, he would watch them be uncomfortable. Then he would force a laugh and say, "No, we are still too young and foolish to be getting engaged." Then he would try to appear thoughtful, as if musing on the irony of his statement. They would half-smile and pretend to be put at ease. Same way every time.

And he spoke truly. He was too young. At twenty years of age, his boyish face always seemed to want to burst into a toothy grin, which it would often and seemingly of its own accord. He thought that perhaps if he could appear more solemn he could at least avoid getting hassled whilst buying cigars. But that was a rarity, and he seldom had much chance to practice being solemn.

Currently, this was no longer a problem. Recent events had left little laughter in him, and even that was used up by now. There was plenty of confusion left. If he had thought about it, he would have realized that with his brow constantly in a state of furrow he would soon develop some excellent lines in his forehead. His down-turned mouth and pursed lips were also doing a fine job of beginning to balance out the smile lines left behind by his enamel exhibitions.

His hair was usually cropped quite short. It was growing long now. Each dark strand appeared to be yearning for freedom and individual space. He had long since given up any hope of unity in their ranks.

Even a wandering wind may wear a new path. His mind no longer wandered. It inevitably took a wrong turn somewhere and fell into a rut. He wondered what she was doing. He ate what little food he could stomach now and wondered what she was doing. He ran along a concrete trail through the park next to the stagnant body of water everyone called a lake and wondered what she was doing. He lay awake in his bed and watched the moon peek into his window and then hide herself again and wondered what she was doing.

All this wondering was not entirely selfless. They had been together for over a year. And when you are young and foolish, a year is a very long time. He was pretty confident that even when you're old a year is still a pretty long time. He was still very much a part of her, and she very much a part of him. So, he might have reasoned, although he was thinking of her, he was still thinking of himself. When he was wondering what she was doing, he was in essence wondering what it was he was doing. Of course, he had only a vague idea. He knew what she might be doing. But really only a vague idea.

One night he had a dream. It was a very vivid dream. Upon waking, he found himself very anxious to speak with her. He worried about what to do. He had not spoken to her in several months. And when you are young and foolish, several months is a very long time.

"Well," he reasoned, "One thing I certainly must do is get out of bed." He did this. While washing his hair in the shower, he noticed its ever ever-increasing length. This realization brought him new worry and the dream was pushed to the back of his mind.

Several days later, she called. He was expecting a call at that very moment from another lady friend and he found himself well past the initial Hellos and How are you doings before he recognized who it was he was actually speaking with.

There was a frantic moment as he scrambled to find his head. He quickly located it and placed it back in its proper place. It was a bit askew, but as they were speaking over the telephone he doubted she would notice. They spoke cautiously for a bit, testing the emotional waters. She would have said Fine and he would have said Tepid. Finally, he just dove right in.

"I've been meaning to call you!" He was not prepared to feel so relieved. "A few nights ago, I had this dream and-"

"Stop," she said. "I have something very important to tell you and I wanted you to hear it from me first." He listened patiently. "I mean, it's best that you hear it from me." He agreed, although he remained silent. "I met someone." He knew this was not all, and continued to listen, though a little less patiently. "We're..." She paused. Cleared her throat. "We're...we're getting married." Apparently overexerted, she waited for a response.

"Congatulations," he congratulated.

"You...you're not upset?"

"No." He wasn't upset.

She let the silence grow. He waited for another question.

"Isn't there anything you would like to say?" she said at last.

"Well..." He thought of what he was thinking. "I had a pretty vivid dream that you were eaten by a pack of flying whales and I was really worried about you. I guess that was pretty silly of me."

* * * * * * * *

The moon peeked into his window as he undressed for bed. He turned to catch her in the act, but she ducked behind a cloud. He laid himself down to sleep. His ear was still ringing a little from when she had slammed the phone. He ran his hands over his freshly-shorn head. A grin broke out on his face. His teeth were still doing well. He snuggled into the blankets and yawned. It had been a long day. Especially for the young and foolish.

He grew more drowsy. And to his pleasant surprise, his mind even wandered a bit before he was finally overcome by sleep.