There it was, her favorite overpass, I parked near it and wiped the tears out of my eyes to wait and watch, another bad night and I just wanted to see her, I knew it was bad messing with the time zones like this, but the happiness on her face – worth all the risk.
There she was! 12 years old, peddling so fast up the hill, her favorite thing was to look out over the view of the overpass from her bike, standing on her pedals with the wind in her face, she would look as far as she could see and dream of someday being there, right past where she could see from the highest point. Just away.
I watched as she crested the hill, she was so strong, and so brave, living in a hell while currently getting molested by her older brother she was still living life and so full of it.
I saw her eyes turn my way, she saw me! What if… I could motion her over… she would get in and I could explain, I would tell her not to cry and that I was so sorry.
I would ask her forgiveness for not standing up for her better, for not being stronger when she needed me, I would apologize for the future, for ruining ever relationship she would have due to never really being healed. I would hold her hand and I would sense she wanted me to tell her everything was all right…and I …
I couldn’t lie, I couldn’t tell her that I was her 13 years later, I couldn’t admit it to her without ruining the one thing she is holding onto, that when she gets old enough and big enough, she will never look back at this place, she will move as far on a map as she can and never visit. If she knew that I was still here, no matter how strong she is, it would kill her little spirit.
I break eye contact…I think. I think she knows. I have come here one to many times.
I go to drive away …she waves.