There were many things I wanted to say; many things that needed to be said. In the amber glow of that bonfire, I do not remember what was said, but I remember that I saw you smile, and in those smiling eyes, reflecting the flicker of the winter fire, I saw my past and my present, and there I looked for my future.

There were many things that I wanted to do; many things that needed to be done. In the shadow of the smoke swirling as it rose, I saw an echo of the pain in your past and the bravery of your present, and I wanted to reach across the flames and take your hands and tell you “It’s alright.”

I wanted the night to never end as we traded tales of our youth and our dreams, and when we spoke of the future to come, our future yet so undecided then, I wanted so much more than the night.

But you wanted something else.

There were many things you said to me; many things that needed to be said. In the cold of a darkened room a thousand miles away from you, for the first time in my life I understood what heart break truly meant—confusion came first, swiftly followed by denial, and then everything else from despair to desolation came all at once—and I saw there was no future.

There were many things you wanted to do; by god, you are doing them now. In the soft white glow of my nights, I tried to forgive the pain and look for the same bravery that you once found, and prayed that my sorrows now would become a memory that I would retell one day in front of a fire.

As images and words and memories and stories circle my head, I understand now how we are two parallel lines heading towards the same destination but destined to never cross paths.

I hope to someday want something else too.

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