Or so I thought.
From the moment the dirt on the runway crunched under my shoes in my hometown to the final awkward, difficult steps up to her front door, all I could think of was how much I wanted to hold her. I hadn't told her I was home. I wanted to surprise her. But when I knocked, she didn't answer the door. I didn't know who he was, but he was wearing her perfume.
I still have the locket with her picture in it. I know now that she couldn't wait forever, that she had to move on. Now, the locket represents an ideal, a love we once shared, a love that still drives me on to this day.