The bookstore Aisle and the guilt of a Dream

"She worked at a bookstore I've never been to. I don't even know her name. We just kept ending up in the same aisle, reaching for the same shelf, and she'd laugh and let me go first. Nothing happened. That's the thing. We just talked. About a book, then a movie, then nothing important. But I kept finding excuses to stay. I remember checking the time and hoping it was early. Then I was walking her to her car and she touched my arm and I felt it in my whole chest. Like being seventeen. And then I remembered. My girlfriend. The whole thing came back at once, not gradual, just there. I stopped walking. She asked what was wrong and I said "nothing" and she knew it wasn't nothing. I woke up and my girlfriend was asleep next to me. I lay there feeling guilty about a bookstore that doesn't exist and a woman whose name I never learned. Watched her sleep a while. Got up and made coffee for both of us. Woke her up with it. She said thanks like it was nothing. It wasn't nothing."