A black Infiniti just like ours Bob’s was behind me almost (obviously) the entire way home tonite. (I used to refer to it as “his” car and he would correct me every. Single. Time.)
There was a time – a hell of a lot of time – when I would have smiled and laughed at waving and honking and lights flashing and big-ass grinning in my rear view. . .
But not tonite.
And it made me sad.
But I get it: he has forgotten things like that.
I just have to find my way to forgetting.
I just haven’t been able to get there yet.
It’s really hard.
Forgive me. Please.


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