She took a path. Not by choice.
She was gone from my sight, too far down the road.
Occasionally, I would catch a glimpse of her.
Is she coming back; Is that her?
Then she would walk away again, even farther.
I have faith that she'll be back, that she wants to come back.
I sit and wait, biding my time,
Talking to her, as if she were still here.
I wonder if, when she does come back, will she remember?
How much I love her?
Enough to not go down that path again?
Enough to just stay here, with me?
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