Valse Triste

by Bob Waltrip

14

"I really loved you, Mike," I said, sitting in the absurd little car as it splashed along the rain-wet street. "I gave you everything I had. God, I would have given you my life."

Mike said nothing, but stared through the windshield, biting his lower lip and doing busy, preoccupied things with the gear shift.

"I owe you a lot," he finally answered, stopping for a red light and looking over at me. "You tried to teach me things. But I was so dumb. Jesus, you should have hit me on the head and told me to wake up."

"I tried."

"Jesus."

"It's been five years," I said. "Just think. I haven't seen you for five years, and suddenly here I am sitting in your car like nothing has happened. It's kind of unbelievable, and kind of sad."

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