The Story
This is goodbye,
I guess.
“And then I felt him looking at me. Really looking.
Like he wanted to say something. Something important. But I also knew that if anything honest was going to be said… it had already had its chance.
So we just drove.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. He wrapped his around my waist. Nothing about that night was the goodbye I had imagined. Our hug was quick. But the pain was a dull, ringing pulse.
As I pulled away, our eyes met for the smallest moment. Those eyes.
But I let him go.”
An excerpt from Paris of the East: An Interactive Travel Memoir.
