How To Move

3

  I bought an apartment. I moved in yesterday. Do you remember that secluded lake you used to take me to? It was our special spot. So many memories there.
  It's not so secluded anymore.

  They built a complex here, but other than that it hasn't been cleared out and sometimes people pass by, especially in the morning hours.

  It has a balcony with a pretty blue railing that faces the lake. You can see the sunset. The front also has a balcony for sunrise that stares out to a vast expanse of woods. I'm in an apartment on the side so my balcony wraps around the building. I love how quiet it is out here. I feel like I'm at a resort. 

  In all honesty, I'm not so sure if you'd like it here. You never seemed to like the quiet. Still, it suits me. The place has a nice indoor pool for the winter season and a few hiking trails as well as a path that leads out of the complex and toward the lake and winds around it. I often see joggers out around that path. There's a pier. Every morning I go outside. I wake up so early. Ever since you left I've woken before dawn. That was something you always did. I still need my coffee when I need my coffee. It's exhausting but I love seeing the sunrise every morning. 

  So I get my coffee and go out on the balcony and there's an old man fishing every morning. Sometimes I think he could be you, watching over me. 

  I glance his way sometimes as I watch the sunrise. He barely moves and if he does he just shifts in his chair or shakes his reel a bit. He doesn't recast, but every time I go inside, when I come back out he's gone, no matter what time it is. It's odd, but comforting. 

  I wish you were here to watch the sunrise with me.
  Do you remember trying to teach me how to fish? It was a disaster. I ended up hooking a piece of paper on the table and it flew off as I cast. It fell to the bottom of the lake. 
  You just smiled at me.

  I try to remember your smile.

  It doesn't make me smile anymore.