No, I didn’t talk to her before I left for good. Well, I’m not leaving for good. I’m not leaving for good in the way that I’m leaving forever. Leaving for good in the way that I’m getting out of here for my own benefit.
I just need to get away for a while.
I can look down at the whole town from this hill. I’ve lived here all my life, never been anywhere else. This is town is a part of me as much as it is my home. But I’m homesick. Not in the way that you miss your home. Homesick in the way that your sick of where you live.
I know I’ll be back someday. Hopefully by then she’ll be moved out and this town will otherwise be the same as it always has. The bend in the church’s metal fence still won’t be fixed. My Dad will still be buried behind that church. She’ll still be in love with someone else. Maybe by the time I get back the letters will be even more eroded, and I’ll have to talk to an unmarked grave to talk to every time she get’s on my mind.