The hug in the airport.

I've been doing a lot of driving home, thinking. People in my head, people who used to think this life was their life, people who were here more than they are now, now I am here, talk to me a lot when we drive home from work. I sometimes remember moments in their lives, moments I was present for, just briefly, for some reason or another. I even remember their loves sometimes. I don't remember it as if I'm the girl though, I remember it as if I'm watching the girl and the boy. I was always a spectator, and what I remember is watching like I was watching a movie. Now they are not together, the people in the movie, and perhaps I am the person who remembers the most about their love, I'm the person for whom the love is most constant. I remember it so clearly. I remember scenes. And I remember the hug in the airport.

They say I am like the woman at work. I can see that. Easily. I am very like her. Of course nobody would think that, nobody would see that, but they see it because they see me as I truly am. I wonder who she is truly like?

Trouble.