five-day forcast

The weather gets worse when I try to visit. I didn't think anything of it at first, because it's still winter and of course the pass is bad sometimes, so instead I just sent her my apologies and promised the next weekend. But just as I'd pack up the winds would pick up and I'd lose power and the radio would be reporting the passes closed again.

This happened a few times before I caught on. I'd start checking the weather in advance, and it would be reporting clear and dry. The weather only got bad when I started planning a trip. So I tried to catch it off guard, leave without any planning or preparation, only to find myself stuck on the freeway for hours, stranded in a little truck stop town with nowhere to be and nothing to do.

So I stopped making promises, and she started asking why I couldn't tell her when I'd be by to visit. I didn't know what to say. She wouldn't believe the weather was cursed, she wanted me to keep trying, and so I did, and so I kept getting stranded, and I came to know the little nowhere towns and the little greasy spoons I'd find myself eating at, wishing I were somewhere else.

I wanted nothing more than to give up, but she wouldn't understand, so I guess I'll just have to settle for failure.