My Farewell Walk

The sun was on it's way to rest but shone brightly in it's final hour to light my path as I intentionally tried to lose myself in the houses and trees in southeast Portlandia.

I had already uttered every syllable I had left within and strangely felt calm as I anticipated each word would continue to be ignored, as they had been the night prior. 

A text from a boy that wasn't you made me smile. 

And that wasn't my fault. 

You knew as well as I that it was yours.

I stepped on a cigarette bud and thought how a part of me would genuinely miss the way the taste of your mouth always had a hint of cigarette. 

Even though I detested cigarettes.

I somehow loved it on you.

Already, five minutes into my walk, and I had been ambushed by three dogs, each approaching with such speed and determination, I stood there, a startled statue, we two staring into the other, wondering whose move was next. 

And the thought flashed in my mind that your dog would have loved me. 

And maybe I would have loved him too.

In spite of myself.

And as I listened to the songs ringing through my pearl earphones I felt my heart flutter again and realized the melodies healed. 

Which seemed somehow fitting because that agreed with the thesis of your doctorate. 

Or something like that. 

I imagine. 

You never actually told me.

And then I stumbled upon the brightest, most vibrant lilac, both periwinkle and plum, and I remembered how wonderful plum looks with my red hair. 

And as I looked into my camera and saw my reflection I felt beautiful again. 

And I remembered how much I delight in my own company. 

And that was wonder enough. 

Even if you were too foolish to see any of that.