This is the only Cowboy I could find. He’s the right one for me, but he isn’t the right one.
Cowboy didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t leave a note in my mailbox. He stopped visiting. He stopped talking to me. After a week, I started looking for him. He isn’t here. Anywhere. Google says One Cowboy’s Way is a WordPress account that has been deleted. I sit and stare at the words hard and sharp like iron. Friends do not delete themselves. Do they? I don’t know the way to the bunkhouse anymore.
I am worried. My heart hurts a little. I didn’t bother to know his name. On purpose. I liked to call him Cowboy. We passed each other when we visited you. He’d always been there before me. Sometimes he left a note. Sometimes he didn’t. But he always left his card. I still see his face. The face of the only Cowboy I knew. That weathered old cowboy face with the sweat-stained hat and the cigarette hanging between his lips. I took him for granted. Now he is gone.
We say we care. We say it all the time to each other. Do we?
Where is Cowboy?