I step onto the treadmill.  I press the power-on button and up pops the San Francisco scene as if it were summer 2010 once again.  I begin to walk as I hear the same sounds and see the same sights.  Familiarity enraptures my soul, and with every step forward, I move further back into my past.  I want so badly to sprint on through, but the treadmill only has one speed.  It forces me to walk slowly and steadily as it leads me back to Market and Embarcadero, over to Lyon and Fell, and of course down Mission and Valencia.

I say to myself, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Eventually, I arrive at this season’s last loose ends and am suddenly able to recall the most infinitesimal details of my most intense happiness and heartache.  I spend some time revisiting them all.  In due course, I tie them up with a cry, a kiss, and a “see you later” and thankfully leave the scene with less baggage than when I came.  I continue on with a lighter heart, again hearing the same sounds and seeing the same sights.  Still I feel, I know and am confident that this one thing is different, and that is me.