memory of places

As, I walked up to the counter, I was flooded with memories past. A sadness washed over me, despite the high from the amazing music that ended minutes earlier. Despite the great company.

Sometimes a place conjures up great memories, sometimes not-so-great.

Tonight as I sat on the patio with a great friend eating late night pizza, the memory of the place from years ago wouldn't stay hidden.

The theater across the street also used to be tainted by the ghost of that old friendship. I've been back many times since. With many friends and few boyfriends. And the bad memories of the place have been layered over with (mostly) good ones.

But the pizza place was where everything had changed in the friendship that apparently still haunts the place in my memory. We sat feet from where we had the conversation.

Tonight, we were both exhausted after the show, so my friend didn't notice my quiet sadness. In my mind, though, the memory wasn't quiet at all.

Between the memory of that night, how he let me down almost two months ago, and how he acted when I ran into him last weekend, I decided it was time.

Time to say goodbye. To the old friend, who I have since realized wasn't ever really one, to a relationship that never had a chance, despite what friends insisted, and to the ghost hiding within the pizza place.