Love and the Road

Once we rode the sunlight and the wind.

The days were full of motion; the nights were full of food, music, laughter, and love. For young though we were, we knew what we liked, and we knew how to find it — wherever we might happen to be. We were perfectly free, and we used our freedom fully.

But time wears down everything, and it wore us down, as well. The road was still there, and the desire to see more; but boards covered up more and more windows of our old haunts, until one day, you looked at me, and couldn’t see the same man you wanted to share adventures with anymore. The boards had covered me up, as well.

So you left.

My life has moved on since then. I’m happy now; happy without the things we once thought indispensable.

But sometimes, in that rare moment when the world grows quiet around me, I hear the sound of a distant automobiles, and I see you again, in my mind, as you were then: young, free, powerful, without a care in the world, talking to one of your friends back home on an old-time hotel landline.

I was not the love of your life; you were not the love of mine, either. But we did live together. We learned, we laughed, and yes, we loved.

Once, we rode the sunlight and the wind; that sun set long ago, and that wind blows lonesome out on the old roads.

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