This trip, this endless way on the Interstate 5, a way without purpose, slowly develops to a way to the past, to a kind of pilgrim’s way on a stony path of my being. You sit by my side, while I talk to you, however, you are quiet. In our common life I have never talked so much at a row and no matter how long, you still listen to me. I have always admired your infinite patience. Sometimes you have such a serenity, which drove me crazy sometimes and today, today I enjoy your serenity. I would have had to understand already much earlier that this was no a provocation from you, but that you wanted to catch me that way. You wanted show me that it was fine, everything was fine and that there was no reason to be stressed, nervous or annoyed. Everything would be fine, as long as we only were together, as long as we knew that we loved each other, as long as … I surrendered … gave up us, destroyed everything, destroyed us … … And, nevertheless, after all this time you still listen, you know if you interrupted me now, I would become only annoyed and lend even more expression to my discontent. It was so important that I could talk now. And you, you know that. Yes, you still listen so that I wouldn’t get into this more and more and finally would also be quiet to gobble my fury. You always were the valve that balanced my mood in a well measured way. Once again I realize how much more I was with you.

A big green sign let another memory rise in me: "San Francisco 87 Miles". This historical city has quite a special charm on you. I have always promised you, we would go there some time. And then, again and again there was another argument to not do it. We had already planned a trip, had planned the route, booked the hotel. You had packed the suitcases and waited for me, because we still wanted to drive off in the same evening when I came home from work. During that day a hell had broken loose at the gallery. Franklin had changed my plans for a project behind my back again and thus had completely upset my schedule. I worked far into the night to sort the chaos. When I came home against 12 o’clock in the night, the suitcases were standing in the hall. Only then I remembered again that we wanted to go to San Francisco. You sat at the pool with a glass of wine and stared at the water. I came up to you, wanted to apologize, however, you only said: "Forget it!" I knew exactly how disappointed you were and there was nothing that I could have said or done, nothing that could have apologized to you. I was so endlessly sorry, because I knew how much I had hurt you. And exactly now I can feel this pain again. More and more I realize that I had done not only one mistake. There were countless situations in which I had hurt and disappointed you. What is still frightening me more is the fact that I had forgotten about all these things, that I ignored your pain. Unconsciously I had projected my suppression of negative events onto you. I had almost required that you should deal with it too. I’m so sorry, Tina. I promise you, we will go to San Francisco, you and me if there should be the slightest chance in the future. I promise.