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Blue :: Sarah McLachlan

Hey blue, here is a song for you,
ink on a pin,
underneath the skin,
an empty space to fill in
.”

We drove all through the night and into the next morning, the two of us, stopping only for gas, coffee and a truck stop breakfast at 4 am. You did most of the driving as you kept insisting that I was better at navigating the mixed tapes and radio stations. No one knew we had left, nor expected us to return. We had a wrinkled map that had come which you had spread out across the bed. It came with the car when you bought it, used. You told me to “pick anywhere and we’ll go“.

Everything was near the end for us, we both felt it, but we weren’t quite ready to let go yet – so we picked a spot, packed up the car, and left town.

We stopped at a few roadside attractions, and in the middle of the second night we made our own, together.

I would miss the way your hair was soft at the base of your neck, how the inside of each wrist smelled of clove cigarettes and a cologne that my Grandfather had worn, and the way you would sing all the lyrics wrong to every song (only sometimes on purpose). There was a laundry list of things I would not miss – ever – but that really does not matter anymore. The good and the bad between us left their indelible marks on our souls. Memories lasting longer than the postcards and plastic snow globe souvenir we brought back with us.

Time ticks by and I do not remember your middle name, or the way your voice sounds, but I remember that car, the way your lips felt on my skin, and the contents of every mixed tape we ever played for each other.

I wonder what you remember?

Blue :: Joni Mitchell

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