Away

She went away, like a storm, or like a toy boat caught in the current of a stream. That's what I tell myself now. How or why doesn't matter anymore, only that she went away, and forever. She's gone. Irretrievable. Found her way to some distant sea. I don't know. All I know is she's gone, and I am still here. I wished and hoped she'd come back, but she never did. How did she move on? And so quickly? How did she run so fast so far so silently? Did I drive her away? Did I say something, do something, be something? I don't know. All I know is she left. Or was drawn away. All my attempts to draw her closer resounded pitifully and hollowly, like I was speaking to an empty forest or myself or a dark sky. I hear her voice in the rain sometimes, in the pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof. It's like she's still there, or just visiting, but I know it's only my imagination. I tell myself she's just checking in to see if I'm okay, and then I smile...