"You'll never be on a magazine cover." He says, his voice dry with truth.

I shake my head in agreement, "I know." I reply, "I never claimed it was a possibility."

He begins to speak. I press my fingers to his lips.

"Shhhh ... Not yet. I need to tell you something. Now, before I lose my nerve and never have a chance to tell you again ... I just wanted you to know, I'll always love you."

His eyes leave mine to stare at the floor. Uncomfortable with the words he's being made to hear. He doesn't feel the same, I know this, still he doesn't wish me pain.

"It's not enough, is it?" I ask.

"No." he says. "I don't ..."

I try to smile through my tears. "I know." I say, cutting him off before he can explain.

Between us there is only silence. A quiet end to a story with no beginning.

"I've missed you," he whispers, his voice barely audible.

"I've missed you too."

He pulls me in for a last embrace, I can feel the stubble of his beard against my cheek. I can feel my heart breaking.

He walks me out to my car and closes the door once I am safely inside. Hands trembling, I put the key into the ignition, and wait for the motor to come to life.

I take one last peek in the side view mirror.

Objects may appear closer then they are. Is the caption that reads above your image.

I half laugh at the absurdity of it all.

You've never been farther away.