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Song Credit: Michael Bublé, “Always On My Mind”
Listen to this piece 🔊
The night air was a tender embrace, cool fingers weaving through the fabric of my black trench coat, sending a shiver that whispered of distant memories. My black boot heels tapped softly against the cobblestone streets, each step echoing in the hushed, ancient town. The world around me was almost still, save for the distant murmur of melodic European accents, like a lullaby sung by the night itself. I pulled my dark trench coat tighter, not so much against the chill in the air, but against the deeper cold that nestled in my heart, an ache that had never truly thawed.
Maybe I didn't treat you Quite as good as I should have
The streets twisted and turned like the labyrinth of my own thoughts, guiding me past half-timbered houses with windows flickering like candles in the soft, golden light. This town, with its old-world charm and whispered secrets, had once been my sanctuary. Now, it was a place where memories stirred, like ghosts rising from a long-forgotten past. The French Gothic church stood sentinel, its pointed arches reaching for the heavens, its stained glass windows glowing with the colors of a lost time. Above, the sky stretched like a canvas of deep blue, stars scattered like glittering gold flecks across the expanse, reminiscent of Van Gogh’s *Starry Night*. The scent of impending rain hung in the air, a promise of something I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.
Maybe I didn't love you Quite as often as I could have
My thoughts drifted back to the man who had once been my greatest love and deepest regret. I could see him as clearly as if he were walking beside me now. It had been in this very town, over a decade ago, when fate’s whimsical design brought us together. I had been running then—escaping the slow unraveling of my first marriage, seeking solace in the forgotten corners of Europe. I remember slipping into a small, now-lost café, seeking shelter from the rain, my heart heavy, and asking a stranger if he spoke English.
He was exotically attractive, unique and otherworldly. His magnetism didn’t come from the conventional markers of handsomeness but from the contradictions he embodied—tender yet dangerous, quiet yet charismatic, familiar yet enigmatic, like a dream just out of reach. His long sandy blonde hair, cascading from beneath a wide-brimmed fedora, brushed the supple leather of his cognac jacket, complemented with cobbler crafted boots worn with the journey of countless untold stories. His smile, framed by a wispy goatee, had been a beacon of warmth and kindness. When his raspy, deep voice, accentuated with an unidentifiable accent, answered “yes,” something stirred inside me—a spark, a flutter of life I hadn’t felt in years.
Little things I should have said and done I just never took the time
We found a corner table where the hours melted away, our conversation flowing like an unbroken stream until the baristas kindly nudged us into the night. Unwilling to part, we wandered the cobblestone streets, our words mingling with the whispers of history that hung in the air. I marveled at the ease of our connection, the effortless way he seemed to accept me, to see through my petrified defenses, into my soul, in a way no one else ever had. He made me feel cherished, a sensation so foreign it was almost unsettling, and yet it was exactly what I had unknowingly sought for so long. This stranger, this man who seemed plucked from the pages of a story yet to be written, made me believe in a love I had long abandoned, a happiness I thought lost to time.
But you were always on my mind You were always on my mind
I extended my stay in the town, wrapped in the fantasy he offered, far from the suffocating confines of my monotonously safe existence. We spent days lost in museums, art galleries, romantic dinners, dancing under the moonlight, making love throughout the evenings, blissful mornings spent staring into each other’s eyes, and for a time, I allowed myself to believe that this could be my life—this escape from reality. But waking up from this dreamscape inevitably arrived. As I prepared to leave, we exchanged heartfelt promises of eternal love and devotion.
Maybe I didn't hold you All those lonely, lonely times
Back home, our romance lived on in late-night conversations, long hours spent on the phone, voices entwining across oceans. He was patient, gentle, always waiting, but the shadows of my life crept back in, like a slow, relentless tide—shadows of a broken marriage, of a son I had betrayed, of a self I no longer recognized. Slowly, inevitably, I pulled away. My words grew fewer, my heart colder. He sensed the shift, and in a final act of hope, he crossed oceans to find me. But when he arrived, he found me lost—lost in a fog of sorrow and shame, too deep for him to rescue me from. So, in a moment of misguided mercy, in the cruelest kindness I could offer, I let him go.
And I guess I never told you I'm so happy that you're mine
The memory of his tears haunted me—his heart breaking as I shattered the fragile forever fantasy we had built together. He left without protest, without asking me to stay, and that, perhaps, hurt the most—that he had believed in a future I couldn’t give him. For months afterward, I wandered through a grief that felt like a second skin, missing the one person who had seen me so clearly, who had offered me love without condition, and whom I had pushed away.
If I made you feel second best Girl, I'm sorry I was blind
Now, as the first droplets of rain began to fall, my long dark hair began to curl into the dampness, absorbing the mist around me. I pulled a black umbrella from my bag, sheltering myself from the gentle, steady downpour. I walked through the familiar streets, the town unchanged, though I was no longer the same woman who had once fled here. I had married again, but my second marriage, too, had crumbled beneath the weight of my unhealed wounds. I had children—a son from my first marriage, a daughter from my second—but the ache for the life I had denied myself lingered like a phantom, haunting me in the quiet hours. I cheated, each act of infidelity became a brick in the barrier I unknowingly constructed, fortifying the distance between my heart and the intimacy I desperately craved. Whenever I was alone, the emptiness reasserted itself, filling me with an unbearable sadness and loneliness.
'Cause you were always on my mind You were always on my mind
I paused in front of the church, the stained glass glowing faintly through the misty night. It was here, on these very steps, that we had shared our first kiss—a kiss that had felt like the beginning of something sacred, something I had never let myself fully embrace. I closed my eyes, the weight of the years pressing down on me, and for an infinitesimal moment, I imagined the life I might have lived had I chosen differently, had I understood the love he offered.
Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn't died Give me, give me one more chance to keep you satisfied, satisfied
The sound of footsteps pulled me from my reverie, and I turned to see a couple walking hand in hand, their laughter blending with the rhythm of the rain. I watched them pass, a wistful smile playing at my lips. In another life, I thought, I might have been them—walking these same streets with him by my side, content in the simplicity of love.
Little things I should have said and done I just never took the time
But that was not my story. My story was one of loss, of choices made and paths not taken. As I strolled through the winding streets of the old town, the rain softly subsiding, I grieved for the past that never was, but I also felt a faint dim of hope.
Perhaps, I thought, the future could still hold something new, something true. Perhaps I could choose grace. I could choose forgiveness. And perhaps, one day, I could choose to live with courage, with my heart wide open, ready once more for the quiet magic of real love.
But you were always on my mind You were always on my mind You were always on my mind You were always on my mind
Special Dedication
Gone but never forgotten, Nadja Wachter 🌹