Recognition

I may have caught a glimpse of my husband at the library yesterday. I am not married. I was going through the turnstyle when I noticed him coming up the stairs, and thought "Is that someone I know?" When he came through the outer door I could see well enough that I had never seen him before, but then he looked at me as if he were thinking "Is that someone I know?" Now neither of us was thinking "Damn, he/she's hot!" I know this because I know my own mind and because I was wearing an enormous down coat and a wool hat, so he couldn't have been thinking it. It was just a very strange, strong impression.
I have spoken before of my not being from around here, planetarily speaking, and I realize that on this planet I might be taken for a desperate, sad, lonely woman-of-a-certain-age for conjecturing about strangers being husbands. On my planet, however, it's ok to say a heart's desire out loud, even if nobody thinks you can have it but you (although I am becoming conditioned by popular belief and am looking at myself through glasses that distort my image with shame and fear, even as I write this). We, on my planet, are pretty sure that we know things with no proof other than the certainty of our hearts. I am open to the possibility that the love of my life may not look the way I imagine him, may be somebody I never considered in that light, or even that I may have more than one (in a row, not at a time). The thing that I know for certain is that he (or they) exists. And he may or may not have been at the Free Library of Philadelphia on Tuesday afternoon, February 21st.