He sits in the driver's seat, hands tearing apart his steering wheel cover at a red light near her house. He is on the way to meet with a friend who swears he can help get his mind off of her. He arrives at an old dock where they used to go fishing every Saturday morning. It was bliss and peaceful, it was so much easier. They stopped when he fell in love, he was so enveloped in her presence and everything that she was. He couldn’t stay away. He puts his truck in park and takes a deep breath.
"Hey buddy, long time -- no see, huh?"
"I know, I know," he says forcing a smile.
"Come on in, it's cold out."
The two go inside, drink a few beers and talk about old times. It was assumed that this was all it would be and it was all it needed to be. It was brothers by bond, friends who were there for each other, they taught them how to forget for a while, for the most part.
"How have you been holding up? I hate to ask but man, you've been gone. You're not yourself."
He sits looking down and after it all he knows there is no use in lying.
"There is one voice that keeps echoing in my ears ... there is one face that keeps coming in front of me every time ... she was the peace in my heart, she was the joy, the laughter, she was everything."
He smiles as he is reminded of her dancing in the kitchen. His fist tightens at the thought of her hands running up and down his back.
"I really loved her man. I loved her more than anything."
A rock sits in his throat and he is choking back tears he swore he would never let loose. He swore he was stronger than that, but love, it does things to you. It makes you do things you swore you would never do.
He looks up and his friend of years is waving his hand in front of his face.
"Hello," he laughs, " I asked how have you been holding up."
"Oh," he clears his throat, "I'm doing fine, I bounced back pretty quickly. I hardly think if it anymore. The past is the past right, cheers to us man. I got everything I need without her."
They clank beers and he swallows back every truth he was too afraid to say. Sometimes weakness is hiding. Sometimes strength is admitting you've hit your knees.