Introduction
“Back Where Her Light Still Shines”
Somewhere between these winding roads and the neon glow of this late-night town, there’s a heart still holding on. I can feel her in every quiet mile I drive, every song on the radio that sounds a little too familiar.
She’s still in that small town I left behind—same porch light burning, same summer air, same soft voice probably whispering my name when no one’s around. There’s a girl back there who once believed in me more than I believed in myself. And maybe she still does.
I left chasing something big, something I couldn’t explain back then. Big dreams don’t fit in small towns, I told her. She smiled, even though I saw the storm behind her eyes. I said I’d call, said I’d visit, said I’d come back. Funny how time stretches when you’re far away from the one who made you feel close to everything.
The city’s loud, and it moves fast. But nothing here sounds like her laugh or feels like her hand in mine. I’ve met people, shared drinks, made friends who don’t know a thing about the boy I was before I drove away. But she does. She knew who I was even before I had any idea.
Some nights, I wonder what she’s doing. Maybe she’s still working at the café down by the square, pouring coffee for old men who’ve seen it all and say too much. Maybe she’s moved on—new name to call her darling, someone who didn’t leave. Or maybe she’s still looking out that same window, watching the road, hoping my headlights will roll back into her life.
She used to wait for my letters. I stopped writing. Not because I didn’t care, but because it hurt too much to explain how far I’d drifted—not just in miles, but in spirit. But no matter how far I go, there’s this thread that keeps tugging at me. It’s her.
There’s a girl in that town who still holds the better part of me. I don’t know if I deserve her anymore, or if I ever really did. But I know one thing—I’ve seen the world, and none of it shines like her eyes did when I said goodbye.
So tonight, as I pull off this dusty highway and the stars settle over the plains, I’m thinking it might be time to turn around. Not because I’ve given up—but because I finally know where I belong.
Back where her light still shines.