I'm Going To Tell Her

She’s gone. Gone with the other hundreds of people. Speeding by me so fast, that I can’t even see her one last time.

I was too late. How could I be so stupid? She loved trains, the whole experience of being on the tracks. Why couldn’t I run faster? Why did I let her go?

I loved her. I love her.

It’s not over. It can’t be. She can’t be happy leaving me. Can she?

I have to make sure she wants this too. “Excuse me,” I say to the teller behind the window, “When does the next train come for the same destination as the one that just left?”

The teller types some code on her computer, “The next train for Jackson Hole leaves tonight at eight o’clock.”

Jackson Hole, she told me about how when she was a girl she got her first cowboy hat, and went white water rafting there. “One ticket, please.” This is it, I’m going to get her back, I’m going to find her. I’m going to tell her I love her.

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