Sometimes I go to the park and walk the trails intertwining all over it. Looks like a green, very green ocean; smells like dandelions. I will stare at every face I find here. Stare them down until they realize I am looking so I turn away.

Other times it is the grocery store. When I am buying milk and am inspecting the lettuce heads for damage and I sense someone's presence. When I think I am alone in the canned vegetables isle and I smell old cologne that I haven't been turned on by in years.

I will spin around quickly and think maybe I will catch your face.

I never have. I may never.
I said, "I have never said I'm sorry for the things that I inadvertently did."

I fucked things all up for him. Because I was twenty one and selfish, and jealous, and I did things because they would benefit me.

I said, "But I am sorry. Because we both lost. But I could have done without."

He said, "You'll never get it."

I never saw him again.
I will be riding the subway train and feel a warm body in the seat behind me. Sometimes the body has a low voice, and for a brief moment, I will need to use all of my self-control just to not turn around.

At times I will be walking to work through the crowded streets and I will see short dark hair with sideburns and black frame glasses twenty feet ahead. I stretch my neck out a little further to see. Then dart my eyes quickly to the ground when my presumptions are wrong.

Once, I went to the bookstore and there you were, flipping through this book on guitars. All smiles from ear to ear and crows feet. Long hair and beard that I did not remember. I told the cashier I forgot my checkbook and left.

I got it.