I was driving home today and I took the long way. I usually don't and you know why.

So I took the long way, and I drove by the field. I even stopped. I stopped and I got out, and I walked all the way to the back.
It's still there, you know... our truck. The paint is old and faded, even more than it was when it was ours. Rust has begun to eat at it, much like time has begun to eat away at our memories.
Do you remember the same things I do?
I climbed in the bed, and I sat with my back up against the cab. I thought about all the days and nights we spent there. All the dreams we had. All the kisses. How the moon spilled light over your face or how the sun would feel on a lazy summer day as we just watched the clouds roll by.
I thought of you and I thought of us and I thought of all that's passed since then. And I wondered what our lives would be like now if things had turned out differently.
But, mostly I smiled. Because I had memories of you.
And I wondered... as I'm wondering now... do you have memories of me?
You are such a gifted writer!!! Awesome!!
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