Imagine they’ve popped.

It had been planned to leave behind a myriad of circles in chalk, each with a quick reflection mark, the intended effect to seem as though they’d landed, or were still drifting, as we all wish bubbles would do. From Seattle to Puerto Vallarta, chalk arrows became hearts, then broken became tears, and it seemed at least hopeful that they might become rings that go on forever, even in such a temporary medium – hopeful in that you might be chasing them, and that you might find me.

But there’s an obvious sadness to this, that I’m clearly alone. The night was as isolated as any other. I have every reason to believe you know where I am, and you’re not here. No amount of traveling down yet another sidewalk will put you in my arms, and if you wanted me, you could be here telling me you’re mine. I think you liked the idea, for being wanted, but I’m just too tired to go on. This began when I was 29 and I’m 47 now. I’m depleted. For all I’ve done to be available, I’ve only been exploited and led on. There is no point to this, not anymore.

I will still see you in the shadows and hear you in the songs. The sunrise will always remind me of you – and I do still feel you. But life goes on, one way or another. I will always think of you, will always wish you were mine. And if you ever want me, wherever I am, I will always be there for you. I also have a big bag of sidewalk chalk you can have. But I’m done drawing my desires, just to be left alone. If this is forever, you can find me in the dust at your feet.

And yes, I will love you forever, even still..