A Brisk Walk

She walked out

Her voice said she’d be back in an hour,

I couldn’t wait that long.

She had to know I loved her… I think she kept forgetting.

A brisk walk.

She’s walked out before.

This walk seems sadder. Like it means something to her. Like she knows a door is closing. It wasn’t swinging closed. It didn’t have the philosophical possibility of being opened again. She knew.

I walked to the nearest coffee shop. She took her backpack and this was one of her favorite places

Only a room of people…

I walked to the next coffee shop she would go to when her first was too crowded.

Only a room of people…

I knew I couldn’t just keep walking.

I stood outside and sat on the corner… waiting for something to tell me where she was.

She had said she wanted to go to a museum.

Maybe? (I have to listen to myself if I want to find her)

A brisk walk.

To the closest art museum.

Only a room of people…

I didn’t know where else I would find her. I had spent an hour walking and wondering and wandering.

She wasn’t looking for me. I knew already.

A brisk walk

In the opposite direction.

Down the stairs and into the room I landed on the bed in self pity.

Paper crinkled beneath me.

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I knew you wouldn’t look long.

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The paper stopped me. It threw me against a wall too.

I threw it in the toilet and watched it fall apart then be whisked away.

If she was burning bridges, I would flood them.