I remember when we used to love each other.

Until we got stuck in that awkward place lovers do when they both know it’s about to end, but are too afraid to confront reality…instead dancing with each other from across the room.

Do you remember when we got in that argument?

It was something about the way I walked; it was silly, really…but I can’t say I blame you. I was stupid back then. Out of touch.

I miss the time we spent together.

Even those trivial moments spent on top of the parking garage, smoking. We had good conversations back then…deep, insightful, talking about things we couldn’t  possibly know the gravity of. I think we just wanted to break free, fly like those birds we always saw up there.

You must’ve seen things differently.

You were always looking at the horizon. I thought maybe you just liked watching the sun set, but looking back on it, I can tell now you were just waiting to get away. You’ve always been a traveler. I hope you’ve gone to all the places you thought about going.

I’m glad you called.

It may seem terrible, that there’s no escape…but every story must come to an end, old friend.