I thought about us, as I drove back from dropping you off at the airport. The alternating strains of the burbling 400 and Carole King on the oldies station filled the cab of my father’s old truck. Anchorage’s mud spattered sprawl flowed past the windows, dusted in snow. Backlit by the first cresting of the sun I saw a cloud formation that looked like the silhouette of the Steel Bridge.<\/p>\n
Nothing particularly profound came into my mind during the drive. It was only when I was walking back from the parking lot up to my parents’ apartment that I had a moment of sudden melancholy. It struck as I realized I was retracing my steps. Parallel to them were a set of smaller boot prints, yours. In that moment I realized I wanted you there next to me, and that being alone felt wrong.<\/p>\n \n\t\t
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