I saw him yesterday.
That old familiar grin and the twinkle in his eyes - the one I always wondered if he saved just for me.
I was reminded of that first day we spent together, so much bubbling beneath the surface, giddy and nervous, afraid we'd say the wrong thing.
The familiar strength of those arms, where I spent so much time.
I remember the bruises that lingered along the inside of my thighs and I wonder if he ever learned to be gentle.
Sitting there talking, it all seems so familiar. I remember that feeling so well - spinning dreams, enthralled by the movement of his hands as he strummed his guitar - a couple of kids discovering a connection.
He jumps up to check on his kids. I'm reminded of the baby I never had, the one I never even knew for sure existed although I felt certain it did. I remember his disappointment when I told him I had started. It was my only lie, I needed more time - time to think, time to sort out all I had learned. When the blood finally came I cried, telling myself it had all been in my mind.
I turn to leave and remember I never got the chance to tell him goodbye.