To think, I stood there. In the wind. Where you were, and then weren’t, when I was too late. When I’d run after you, when the storm fought against me, when your brain gave up and when my legs gave out. And I was too late.

Too late. Funny that word is, now. We always thought we’d be too late, too late to grow up, too late to slow down, too late to be us and too late to save you.

But in the end, I was the only one too late to do anything, wasn’t I? You had caught up. On time. Leaving me behind as I struggled to catch up. Struggled against the storm where your heart gave up and my body gave out.

And to think, I stood there. In the wind. By the edge where you ran. Where you’d been, and where I wasn’t, because I’d finally caught up.

Right on time.