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A&W became the place to bear your soul
over steak sandwiches and extra large mountain dews,
where conversations led to batmobiles
with the blue light that hurt your finger to press
and futures full of rolling pastures
and the distinct smell of horse and hay
noticed from the swing on a wraparound porch;
where “I like” turned into “we like”
Applebee's,
Fall,
Die Hard,
Mountain views,
and how stargazing on wet grass turned into
a ride home that took a few hours too long
all because it’s just too hard to say goodbye;

but you hate strawberries and I hate coffee,
and four years is a long time to wait
when you’re always expecting a knock at the door
to reveal a faceless man with hat in hands and sorrow in his eyes.