A quote: “Desperado, oh, you ain’t gettin’ no younger | Your pain and your hunger, they’re drivin’ you home | And freedom, oh freedom, well, that’s just some people talkin’|
Your prison is walkin’ through this world all alone ” ~~ Glenn Frey and Don Henley

I’ll start with a story …

***************************
He didn’t wake up easy. Last night was a blur.

“Hey, babe, you in the bathroom? Babe?”

He sat up, slowly and tried to remember where he was. All these years touring and hotel rooms blended into each other. As he stumbled to the bathroom, he noticed her side of the closet was empty and her suitcase gone.

“Shi…”

When he finally felt human enough to leave the room (it sure took longer these days), his check in with manager and crew done, he slipped on sunglasses and braved the outside. Argh. Did it have to be so bright? But he remembered what city this was and pulled out his cell phone.

He looked up from the menu as she spotted him across the restaurant. He was startled for a moment, taking in the salt-and-pepper hair, the more rounded figure. She read his face before he could rearrange it as she slipped into the booth across from him.

“You know, Rick, it has been 40 years.”

He cleared his throat, “Yeah. How’d that happen? And you look great …”

She laughed, unrestrained, eyes twinkling and he saw the young woman he had loved … and left …

They had drinks and small talk. Appetizers and quiet smiles. He wondered, out loud, at how fast the years had gone by. She pointed out that they only talked on the phone every few years … and usually when he broke up with his latest lady.

“Hey, not true!”

“Hey, yes, absolutely! Three years ago it was … um … Brenda? Who left today?”

He sighed, “Rachel. I think.” He smiled at her, “I should have married you.”

She snorted, “AND you say that every time, too.” She reached out, taking his hand, “We wanted different things. You got your career, and I got my family. My kids, my grandkids…”

Her hand went to his face, “I have no regrets. But I worry about you. Those front rows are still filled with adoring 20-something women, some with backstage passes. They never change …”

“But I have,” He closed his eyes, “The years didn’t stop for me.” He turned her hand up and kissed her palm, “Really. I should have married you.”

She leaned forward, pulled her necklace out of her blouse. A man’s wedding ring hung from it. “Jim passed two years ago. I’m still a widow.” She stood from the table, ready to leave, “There’s nothing we can do to rewrite the past. But there’s always a new chapter ahead.”

He watched her as she left. Like last time, she never looked back.

He paid the check and followed.

***************************

Now, it’s your turn.
.
.
.
.
.featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license.