Long Time Gone (Blogophilia 13.12)

“Some stories are best remained untold.”
It was fitting it was inscribed on the marker after all that had happened. It had been the last thing she said to me, almost thirty years ago. Sweat stings my eyes. I always feel out of place here. It had only been a one night stand...that spilled out over a weekend. Never had anything like before or since.
It had been glorious. I can’t even remember if we wore clothes at all. Bikini lines contrasted with my monochrome paste as we danced. Gardenia and musk mixed with her sun roughened skin as she moved. Hands drifting down my cheek and across my lips, tasting what she offered. We were born to be wild, sharing stories of pain and abandonment as we made love on the lake, in the tent, and in the woods. Each tale burned away with our energy and she became more beautiful. Spent, she slept with her ponytail splayed across my chest. When we woke, I gently pulled to bring her close as we fed each other breakfast.
When it was all over, I walked her to the airport gate. I asked why she was going back and she said the phrase that had stuck these years.
A few days later, I got the news. Through the funeral where I knew nobody and the police investigation where I was viewed with suspicion, I learned why she said what she had said. The story wasn’t complete. But it was enough to know she shouldn’t have been there, leaving me feeling guilty I couldn’t stop it.
The dude’s still in jail. The note from the parole office is why I’m here.
A food truck is parked across the tracks from the cemetery advertising the best gyros in the city. I smile. It had been her favorite. Of course! A picnic. I buy two and cross back over.
As I sit, I put hers on the marker. I smell musk and gardenia as I slide the wrapper of mine across my cheek. I taste what it has to offer. I wonder how she would have aged, soft and fluffy or tightly fit? I hear the whiskey voice in my head saying she appreciates me for what I did and my job was done.
It is time to let it all go and a weight lifts off my shoulders.
Thanks for the memories.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A special thank you to Cherry Rose for the opening line. May your butterfly heart always fly.
Topic-David Schrader
Pic-Rutger Siskens
Pic guesses: Across the tracks (in blog) abandoned (in blog) never ending, wrong side, weeds, cold steel rail,

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