That city will always be her. I have let go of the past. I have come to realize and accept what will never be. But I still remember. Everytime I drive thru that city, I am reminded all over again. She haunts the city streets. I can feel her. Everywhere.
Even before I reach the city, I think of all the times she must have made this very same trip. And it always gives me the same feeling, an odd mingling of emotions. Same place, different time.
I always wonder the same things while I am here. Where did she live? Did she walk these very streets that I am walking now? I pass a convenience store and wonder if she ever stopped there. I stop to eat at a little corner cafe. I wonder if she ever came here. And I wish that now was then, and that she was here.
The people I pass, the faces I see, I wonder if they ever knew her, one person in a sea of a million. Did the wind ever blow her hair into a mess? I imagine that it did, and I smile. Did she ever go to the movies alone? I think how that should never have happened, and it makes me a little sad.
I wonder if she ever got lonesome while she was here. She surely must have missed home. When she thought of home, did she ever think of me?
Before I know it, the day is drawing to a close and it is time to go. Leaving the city is a little bit like leaving her, losing her, all over again. Because part of her is still here, and always will be. I miss her more when I am here than when I am not. And yet I keep coming back again and again and again...
I have picked up most of the pieces, the ones that I could find anyway. I have learned to live with my mistakes. I try and concentrate on the present, and the future. On what is, and what might be, rather than what will never be. But that city... that city will always be her.
"And there were things I saw that I'm not proud of. Things that I'd do different now from then. But when I really make myself get honest, it's over, and I can't go back again..."