Last night I was out with some friends, and they decided to all meet up for an after-party at a place that I never go to. Its an area of town that I used to know well when I first moved to Austin, but since I moved out of that area, I rarely return.
By Rarely I mean Never.
I hadn’t realized it when they mentioned the place just exactly where it was. Or should I say, I didn’t realize that my last memory of the area was of that area. I didn’t connect the two until I started driving there.
I turned onto the road miles south of the intersection with the bar where we were meeting… and my memories started coming back to me.
I started to remember the last night I was on that road. How wonderful that last meeting with him was. His smile. The way he looked at me.
When I pulled onto this road, it was at the juncture that ended the night finally.. where he pulled south, and I turned north. So as I drove towards the bar, the memories became happier and more bittersweet.
I realized that I missed him. I cussed at him in my car for moving away. It was a half-assed cuss-out as I know he did what he had to do, and I’d never want to take his dreams away. But knowing that barely makes his absence more tolerable, nor does it really let me miss him less.
By the time I got to the intersection where the bar was located, I was a little overwhelmed with missing him. That intersection was the same intersection where we were stopped at the light, windows rolled down, and flirting. Even now when I think on it, I smile with watery eyes.
I pulled myself together though and made it to the bar composed. Ordered a beer and chatted as if I wasn’t being haunted by old memories.
As I drove home, I ended up stopped at the same light. In the same spot as I had been months ago. Finding myself wishing that he would pull up beside me, and make me laugh like he had before.
It was a bittersweet ride home. Filled with happy memories that I’d nearly forgotten, and saddened because he’s not here.