The imprint of buildings against the skyline imprinted themselves in my retinas. Our familiar old Midwestern backdrop clings to my skin like raindrops in a downpour- evaporating from my conscience eventually. I walk across the street and stand for a moment, as though there is a message I was meant to receive on this particular night, in this exact location. Somewhere it was written that I would return to this place, just to feel it all slide away for one last time. I've been running from some mysterious monster that perhaps was created upon thoughts that weren't quite true. The clouds take me into their swirls, colors of sunset- pinks and orange- begin to fill the blue-gray expanse overhead. Once again I take a breath and then turn around and walk back to my car. My mind races back again, to the days in which we were together. How I can't believe any of it, and it wasn't a lie because there are pictures and proof. I sometimes wished there wouldn't be proof of the hundreds of nights I sat and wondered where you were and what you were finding for yourself out there.
I decided that I would take on each new bend in the road, that I would taste the air of a hundred shores and remember them all. But this place, this place it drives me insane. You stood before me not an hour ago, eyes focused and available for me to jump into for a moment. Once again I tasted the nights sitting in your yard, or watching some pointless movie neither of us cared about. Somehow I managed to erase a lot of this, but I came here to not erase it anymore. I came to see it again, and walk away from it for the final time. Your absolute determination awes me each time, yet I know you are gone for good. Once every six months and you quickly lose my mind and heart. The truth is I left it all many months ago, left you completely, but somehow it was the one last assurance that I needed. I reached up to turn on the radio, only to find the cd we used to listen to on long drives together. Years, years ago. Like all the things I ever cared about were chasing me. My hand reacted without hesitation, silencing the sound as quickly as it had begun. Alone, I sat and watched the Midwestern sky seemingly be smeared by the hands of some great giant mixing watercolors. Some sweet sense of serenity took over and I let my head fall back against the seat, my bangs brushing across my forehead like always. I wondered what everyone else saw when they watched me shrug and walk away again.
