The Reason Why

I think about you sometimes. It isn't as much as I used to but... still a lot. I'm reminded about simple little things. When it rains outside after the glaring hot sun in the afternoon, I remember how you used to love rain. I never found anyone who loved it as much as we did.

And then I'd remember how I would just curl up next to you, saying nothing. You'd get your old guitar and start strumming an old rhythm. And then I'd sing with you just like I always did.

And everything was good.

I think about how it might have been. If we'd still be together we'd probably get nowhere and everywhere all at once. You always did love traveling. I always went wherever you went, except for that one time.

And sometimes I still regret it.

You said, "If one of us makes it big one day, don't forget me, ok?" And I laughed. 'Coz I knew that I was supposed to be the one asking that question.

So I gather what's left of us. A few post cards, a rather ugly picture of a drunken moment and a smelly black jacket we got from one of our trips. And I shove it inside my backpack.

I close the door of the hotel room and take a deep breath. Another trip, another city, another life.

I pass an old magazine stand and I momentarily glance hoping your face would be staring back at me. "How much is this?" I scramble to get some bills out of my pocket and pay the man.

Sure enough, a black and white photo of you is printed across the 2nd page. I would always tell my friends that those photos never did you justice. You were much more than the glossy, spike-haired guy they portrayed you to be.

And then maybe I was just being a little silly romantic again. A part of me thinks that you are.

They would often ask me, "Why did you two break-up?"

You know, that's a good question. Why?

It's not that I don't understand you. It's not that I don't want to be with you.

It's just that may be you thought I was someone else. You thought I would always be the one to say yes to everything you want me to be.

But I'm not that.

So now I travel from coast to coast, going nowhere and everywhere all at once. In truth, maybe I travel to get closer to you. In truth, maybe I travel so I wouldn't have to forget you. Yet I know, as close as I get to you, it's not the same.

So I play in bars and nightclubs to as many places as I can. And sometimes I still see you. A sold out concert, an episode of my favorite show, or an interview on TV.

You tell the world what you want them to hear.

You would talk about how love never dies. Little white lies that we both say. Liar.

You and I know the reason why.

So I would head out alone and hope for the best.

I still think about you sometimes. And then, little by little, I forget.