HE'D ONLY BEEN IN LOVE ONCE

He'd only been in love once.
He never caught her name. There was hardly time; he was in a car, trying to make up time down the backroads outside Bilbao; she was on the roadside, barefoot for some reason.
Every girl he'd met since he judged by her standards, and he knew he'd never feel fulfilled until he settled down with her and her alone.
And yet he knew he'd never see her again - this being 15 years ago now. Even if he did he'd never recognise her; she'd be bloated by experience and cynicism, drained of her vitality. Maybe he was only in love with his idea of her. Maybe he preferred it that way.