Today I walked the paths where we used to go. I went to the place where we went, the third time we hung out. It was on the island, overlooking the river and the shipyard. I went to the picnic table under the pavilion where we sat. I remembered what we said, what you wore, who we were. You said, you'd never seen the bridge when it was raised. I told you, look, it's going up now, and you looked.
I walked along the path we walked along. I saw the strange wooden box we debated about and remembered you saying something about deductive and inductive reasoning. I didn't know what you were talking about then and I'm not sure I do even now. I chased you, I don't remember why. I slipped in the long wet grasses in my shoes.
I went to the other picnic table where we sat, by the wild rose bushes. You gave me a rose. Funny, now, the roses are still in bloom, a few of them are.
The river was low. We debated whether the tide was going out or coming in, and decided it was going out. We walked down on the exposed rocks and looked for pretty rocks and other treasures. I took some pictures. I still have one with you in it. I remember what you were wearing, how you looked. You asked me for a hug. I clasped your body in my arms for one of the first times.
As I walked, I grieved. I said goodbye. I remembered who you were and how you were to me. I said goodbye. I told you that I loved you. Now that you are all but dead to me, I grieve you and I say goodbye. I tell you that I still love you, in a way, but I cannot have you anymore. We are no more.
I am still so sad. But I understand, a little better now, and I know. I will grieve for a long time. But I see more clearly now. I wish the love that you had promised me had not gone away. But maybe, you, you whom I once loved, still do now, it was never, ever there. You're still in my heart.