another white dash
4:32 pm, Thursday, Mar. 31, 2005

It's funny how it happens, really. The way the once crisp photograph of my stupid little love turns to a faded watercolor. The way that every single day adds another layer of vellum, softening sharp edges into barely noticeable blurs.

Where I once drove around telling stories to your ghost, now I think of all the people I'd rather give that seat to, all the people who might even be glad to take it.

This has been a learning year, another collection of calendar pages that show how far I've come without ever leaving. Losing you was hard but it was also oh, so easy. I pried open my fist and held out my hand while I kept my eyes squeezed tightly closed. When I finally looked at my empty palm, I realized there had never really been anything there.

There are too many miles of highway for me to ever hold so still again.