The new year brought me a new sense of purpose. The feeling of walking through sludge, of fighting against a current, had mostly dissipated. It was even possible to see a headline about Kaden, or a photo, without wanting to hide in a bathroom cubicle and weep. I threw myself back into my own life. At work, that meant a raise and at play, it meant I started socializing again. With friends from high school but also with a couple of my work colleagues. I became quite close to a woman who had gone to Reinhardt a few years before me and who had just returned to Little Falls after going away to college to get her law degree. Her name was Jennifer Brown and she wore pantsuits and was obsessed with finding a husband. We developed a routine of going to a coffee bar a block away from the law office a few times a week, where she would regale me with tales of her dating adventures. One day, she told me she'd met someone who was perfect for me.

"Really?" I asked, half-hopeful and half certain it would be another dud - she seemed to have a talent for finding duds. "And? Who is he?"

"Well," Jennifer said, leaning across the table and pausing dramatically. "He's a lawyer and he's good-looking."

"And is he fifty years old?" I asked, smiling, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"No, he's twenty-six."

"Why aren't you dating him?"

"Because I'm dating his friend - Josh - and I only met him last weekend when Josh introduced us. I immediately thought of you. He seems pretty perfect. We should go on a double date, don't you think?"

"I don't know," I said, stalling. Jennifer was cool and she was a good lawyer but I didn't trust her taste in men. "What's his name? And is he really good-looking or are you just saying that?"

Jennifer shook her head and gave me a look. "God, Natasha. Would it kill you to go on a single date? You never mention any men in your life! His name is Michael and yes, he really is hot."

The waitress brought our coffees to the table and I looked outside at a snowy, gray Little Falls. Jennifer was right. It wouldn't kill me to go on a date.

"OK," I said, taking a small sip of my too-hot coffee.

"OK what?"

"OK I'll go on the date!" I laughed. "But if he's a weirdo, Jennifer, I'm never going to trust you again."

"He's not a weirdo, Nat. You're a weirdo. Do you know how many guys at the office have a crush on you? They all think you're some kind of unattainable ice-queen."

"Jen," I chuckled, "there are only, like, four guys at the office. And at least one of them is married."

Jennifer waved her hand in the air dismissively. "So? Blake and Chris both like you. Haven't you noticed how they're always coming to you for help with stuff they could totally do themselves?"

"Um - are they?"

Blake and Chris were both in their thirties, both lawyers. It had never even crossed my mind to consider either one as a romantic partner.

"Yeah, they are. I'm not saying you should get with either one of them, but still, it's so funny that you miss stuff like this. You're so clueless!"

Jennifer was very direct. It didn't bother me much because she had a sort of good-natured way about her, like she wasn't implying that she herself had any sort of clue, either.

"I guess I just - ugh, I don't know!" I said. "I'm busy at work. I don't notice people creeping around my office trying to flirt with me. And Jen, they're old."

"Oh, I know. They're not that old, but you're only nineteen and I know how old thirty sounded when I was nineteen so I get it. But we're on for the double-date, then?"

I shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

I did it, too. Jennifer booked us a couple of hours at the bowling alley - she seemed to think quirky activities were the thing to do on dates - and introduced me to Michael the lawyer. And she was right, he wasn't a weirdo. He was perfectly nice. Well-spoken, funny and, although I didn't quite agree with Jen's assessment of him as 'good-looking,' he wasn't bad. The double-date seemed to go well. At the end of it Michael asked me if I wanted to go out again sometime and I said yes. Then he kissed me on the cheek and left.

Spring came, and then early summer. Life was steady. Michael was steady. We only saw each other about once a week, due to mutual busyness, but the relationship hadn't progressed beyond a few tepid make-out sessions. It wasn't that I didn't like him - I did. And some part of me understood that dating men was now the expected thing to do as a young, single woman. But there no heat between us and after a few months had passed it was becoming increasingly obvious that my efforts to convince myself that it would just naturally grow were wasted. It was after another double-date with Jennifer and Josh that Michael pulled back from me abruptly when I turned my head away from him as he tried to kiss me. We were sitting in his car outside my house.

"Why are you even dating me?" He asked abruptly. It wasn't a question I was prepared for. I tried to play it off.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Natasha. It's a simple question. Why are you dating me?"

"Um," I stammered. "I'm, uh, I'm dating you because I like you. What do you want me to say?"

Michael rubbed his forehead slowly. "I know you're young," he said, "so it's possible you just don't know how this works, but I've tried to be patient with you. We've been seeing each other for months now and we've hardly done more than kissing. And even then I always get the feeling that you're just doing it to get it over with."

"Well, I, uh-"

"Don't you think that's strange?" He continued. "Usually when people date it's because they want something more than friendship. I've tried to be respectful and understanding but the truth it, this isn't going anywhere, is it? Anywhere past friendship, I mean?"

I opened my mouth to say something reassuring but before the words came out I just closed my eyes and hung my head slightly. He was right. I didn't feel much of anything when Michael put his hands on me. Not disgust, not lust.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I thought it would come - I thought that's what dating was, but..."

"But it isn't coming, is it?" He asked. "Your feelings, I mean? You don't really have any for me, do you?"

"That's not true. I do have feelings for you. I really like you. It's just, it's not-"

"Not in that way, right? It's OK, Natasha, there's no need to try and spare my feelings here, it's not like it isn't obvious. I just think it's beyond time for me to end this. It's painful for me to be in this state of constantly hoping for something I'm not going to get, and it's no good for you, either. We should both be with people who want to be with us. The way men and women want to be with each other."

"You're right," I whispered after a long pause. "You're right, I'm sorry. Michael, I really am sorry - I didn't mean to waste your time, I just-"

"That's fine, Natasha. I appreciate the apology, But I have work in the morning so I should probably be getting home."

Michael's tone was firm and cold. I looked up, surprised to hear it like that, and saw the same thing in his eyes. There was nothing else to say. In silence, I gathered my things and got out of the car, closing the door behind me and watching as Michael drove down the street away from me. Then I walked into the house, monitoring my own mental state, waiting for the emotions to come, whatever they were.

None came. Not that night, not the next day, not ever. I didn't miss Michael. Beyond a cringing embarrassment at stringing him along for so long, something I hadn't intended but had managed to do just the same, there was no sense of loss. If anything I was just relieved I didn't have to go on any more 'quirky' dates and spend money I'd have much rather put in the bank.

So there was really no adjustment to make. Life with Michael became life post-Michael and nothing much changed at all, barring his absence. Jennifer kept dating Josh, and she seemed sympathetic to my explanation that I just hadn't felt any passion with Michael.

It was on one of those long, hot August days that are typical in Little Falls that I found her in her office with some paperwork I needed to make copies of. She was sitting in front of her computer.

"Oh, hey," she said, looking up and noticing me. "Isn't this the guy you used to date in high school?"

My stomach did an immediate flip but I kept the expression on my face neutral and walked around behind her so I could see what she was reading. Kaden Barlow no longer had any hold on me. Surely I could manage to look at a photo of him on the internet.

On the screen, there was a photo of Kaden. He looked quite different - a lot more styled, with a trendy haircut and an expensive-looking, perfectly fitted suit on. He was standing with two people - a gray-haired older man and a pretty young woman. He had an arm slung around the woman's waist and they were standing very close to each other.

"Yeah," I said, "that's him. What's going on? Did he do something scandalous?"

"Nah, it's just some publicity photo for a charity event at Brooks. They're calling him a 'future NFL star.' Damn, girl. Why didn't you lock that down when you had the chance?"

I must have betrayed a certain level of discomfort with that question because a few seconds later, Jennifer immediately began to apologize:

"Oh, shit, Tasha. I'm sorry. I didn't - I didn't mean to pry or anything. I just thought you-"

"No," I said breezily. "It's fine. We were just really young. And you know the situation with my family. I couldn't leave, he couldn't stay. It was what it was, you know?"

"Sure," Jennifer replied, looking worried. "Yeah, of course. I forgot about the thing with your mom. I'm really sorry, Natasha."

I was doing a very bad job of hiding my discomfort, that much was obvious. Best to get out of there as soon as possible, to try and salvage at least some of my dignity.

"It's nothing!" I reassured Jennifer again. "Really! Now can I get that paperwork or not?"

At least I didn't obsessively think about the incident for hours afterward. So seeing a photo of Kaden still had an effect on me, so what. He was my first love, the man I lost my virginity to, and there hadn't been anyone since him. It definitely brought up some memories. But that's all they were. Memories. Everyone had them. No big deal.

At least that's what I told myself. I didn't have a choice. What else could I have done? Admitted that just seeing an image of Kaden on a screen still did more for me than any man ever had, before or after him? No. That wasn't a truth I was in any way prepared to face. So I didn't. I just brushed it under the rug of my mind and left it there. It's surprising how easy it is for us to fool ourselves, sometimes.