Ghosts

Once upon a time there was a girl who had a smile that looked a lot like the sun. When we were together, so many years ago, we listened to a song that was popular then – La Isla Bonita. The pretty island. It was a song about happiness and love. The kind of thing young, bright, hopeful girls wish for. We would drive to school, singing along to that song, homework in our backpacks, smiles on our faces, sure of a future.

Then she died, leaving me alone with that song and my memory of her.

Tonight, in the car, I was channel surfing, and there it was. Just beginning. Our song.

I listened, and cried, the car empty without her there beside me singing. Hours later my eyes are still full of tears, my head is full of that song. I know that these things, these outcomes, are a mix of destiny and desire. Choice and fate, perfect in their precise execution of our deepest wishes mixed up and stirred into what must be.

And yet I wish with all my heart that Eva had been with me in the car tonight, singing. I wish for another chance to see her and touch her, and to smile and sing about the pretty island. A place we always said we would go together.

Someday I feel sure we will.

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