To the end of love

I have said goodbye to them all.

To Jenny, to Beauty, to the woman with the moon in her eyes. To every possibility of a lover enchanted by my words. To the walled garden, and to temporary friends. And to the desk within earshot of trains.

It made me think I was in motion when I was not.  Perhaps it is why I stayed so long.  Too long.

I drove home with the sun at its highest, with the top down and my guitar and half a dozen suits on the back seat.  The wind ran its fingers through my hair less tenderly than the girl had done when she’d lain in my arms for the last time that morning.  It had been such a lovely evening, such a perfect night. It has gone forever.

.She did not cry.  She still believes.  Yet it is over.

And now, I cannot decide if this is the beginning of an end, or the end of a beginning.

At the moment it feels like freedom.

I am home.  With the one who knows me best.

She will dance me to the end of love.