#i think that was the uear we played the eagles in the super bowl

[patrice-bergerons]

It's that, you can never go back.

The friend who once knew your every sorrow and triumph--she may smile at you from across the table, but she is a stranger now. And it's no one's fault really. People grow up and grow apart and go their own ways.

Restaurants close. Players retire. And still, there I am, sitting across from my sister at a plastic table in a mom and pop cafe, which served the best breakfast sandwiches I've ever had in my life. But she likes pancakes and we have a stack of them on the table. And neither of us are happy with our lives, but there, in that cafe, with its fogged over windows and its cheer we are safe from the deadly cold outside.

It's gone now, that place. And somewhere the small TV affixed to the corner is still talking about Tom Brady's thumb injury as patrons huddle merrily around plastic tables and eat and laugh. On the wall is a picture of the owners with Andrew Ference and the cup -- he brought it there when they won.

The love lingers long after things are gone. The love matters. And it can't take you back.

#my original writing #i think that was the uear we played the eagles in the super bowl #and everyone was SO concerned about Bradys injured thumb #which is to say yet another previously lock3e memory I remembered