The wind tossed my hair as I walked to work, whispering urges, and something in my heart told me it was time to move on, reminding me not to linger. I still had a long way to go before I could settle in anywhere – places to see and people to meet. I walked to work wondering what to do next.

Then I would open the bar-and-grill door and he would greet me between the drink orders, gently plucking up my coat and hanging it next to his own dull red jacket. The familiar customers greeted me warmly, letting me know I was wanted. The men flirted shamelessly with all the waitresses, and teased him, laughing belly laughs as he blushed behind the bar. But even as the group of mostly men winked at me over amber glasses, they knew it was only temporary.

He took my extended stay to heart—bent on making me stay. His eyes pleading silently as he gazed at me across the room. The scene quickly turned into a familiar one as the days stretched into weeks. As I wandered among the customers who pretended to be oblivious to my inner turmoil, I'd feel his eyes on me. I'd look up to see him watching and I'd flash him a quick smile.

Stay, he whispered.

And I did.

Then, abruptly, I could no longer ignore the call. Days and weeks had passed—much too long—while I had disregarded its words. Finally, my body would no longer listen to my mind as I sold my beat up pick up truck for cash. It ignored my heart as I purchased a one-way ticket to Colorado and gave my boss notice. Then my hand wavered over the "For Sale" sign I was going to put in the window of my condo.

I had to compromise with myself, exchanging the first sign for a second reading: "For Rent." I hadn't meant to stay that long. Why had I bought it in the first place? Maybe I had hoped I would stay—that he or, at the very least, someone else would give me a convincing reason. At the best, it gave me a place to return to at the end of my journey and people who I knew would welcome me back; at worst, it would be easy to sell.

Silent and sullen, he drove me to the train, and I left him at the platform and went to find my place. I waved to him from my window seat. He waved back with a forced smile for a moment before running his fingers through his ruffled locks and dropping his gaze to the ground for a moment. I watched his eyes as the train slowly pulled away from the platform.

Stay, they called, but their voices were fainter somehow, loosing their grip over me.

A sense of longing filled me. Maybe I had hoped I would stay in my apartment, or maybe that he would come with me. Yet... he hadn't and I was still hopeful. A warm tingle filled me like a bubble, beginning in my stomach and warmed me to my toes, flowing over me and overriding the ache.

I was free. Once more reborn.

By the time the station had drifted out of sight, I had said my silent goodbye. Maybe I'd see him again... when this was all over... when I had finally tired of being blown place to place.

I hoped so.