Saying her name, I feel the whole of her pass through my mouth, out between my teeth, across my lips, into the cabin of the truck, out the window, into blue sky. My first and only love. Leaving me. And I know, somehow, that I won’t say her name again. Because it hurts too much to yearn for a return. I resign to her leaving my body, feeling that this is enough. This is enough, to be witnessed by Dave, in the here and now, to have someone in this big wide world know that I loved her. That I loved her. That it was real.
