A Work In Progress...

That moment replayed over and over again in my mind. I remember how it started and I definitely remember how it ended. Word for word. In my head, I had two versions of the night: what actually happened and what should have happened. I know what I should have said. I could have been more understanding or tried to recognize how you felt. But would that have helped? Probably not. We still have completely different opinions. We always have. We always will.

I still can't believe you left, right in the middle of the argument. You know I hate that. That's probably why you did it. Next came two hours of me talking to myself, vowing I would never speak to you again, and that we were utterly incompatible. Just down right wrong for each other, in every way possible.

Yet, I find myself walking that oh so familiar stone path, looking for your sulking self. You go to the same place every time, to think and figure things out. I think you forget how well I know you and how much I remember. Gosh, we met in college. It feels like forever ago. You always returned to this same place, where we began. The place that knew us both, inside and out. The place that brought us together and simultaneously, drove us mad at times. I always truly loved this place.

I hear a faint voice that I soon realize is a voice stringing together musical lyrics. It's you, I know it. Sometimes, you sing in the shower and think I'm asleep, but I'm always listening. I don't know why you are so embarrassed of your singing voice. As I walked towards the sound, I recognize what you're singing...our song. Our song, since college. Since that rainy night of listening to the radio and cuddling in your dorm room. I loved that song most when you sang it. I don't think I ever told you that.