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February 22, 2009
I found myself on State and Sprague this afternoon. I paused briefly to remember what had happened on that corner three months ago.

I clearly saw two people who were not there. Her red hair was shorter than it is now. They were laughing. He kissed her, and she fell into his arms. I could only watch.

Trying to recover the past is one of the saddest things you can do, because it never works. Trying to do it in a familiar place is even sadder, because you cannot help but try.

Maybe this happens more as you get older.