It was like a postcard.

Imagine my luck from this afternoon: driving along highway 7 with the windows rolled down, radio up, peering into the massive valleys and forrested hills that make up the Ozarks in Newton County on the first cool day of this long hot summer. September is already here, and the fall is creeping in through the back door. The air feels so special and nice and it reminds me how lucky I am to be young, free, and alive. I think of my father, aging, imprisoned, and absent of weather. I longed for him to be able to feel the wind on his face and sunlight on his skin. He says that he has dreams about the stars and the moon. I dream of him and of you too...On the way up here, I thought of you at eighteen, barelegged in a skirt and converse, young, wild, and running down this same road. Most everything I see still reminds me of you, despite the down right brutal way that you've disappeared from my life. I can feel the coming autumn in my soul, and have such vivid visions of being in love and kissed on cold dark nights. Hands locked tight and walking through these hills. A haunted hotel. A cabin in the woods. Long winter nights and bright clear days with the one who understands what my heart beats for. Inflamed with a slow burning love. My mind tells me that I am a fool to still long for such things with you, but my heart asks what else could there be?