It was dark. You could barely see him, slouched down on the pavement. His arms rested on his knees and his head was tipped back on the rough red of the wall.
A car rushed past. He closed his eyes and sighed. Lifting his head he rose to his feet. I miss you, he said quietly to the empty street.

It began to rain gently. He looked up to the dim street post; the light seems so alone, like it couldnt touch its surroundings. It was so close but still so far - he began to walk. Splash...splash. His runners led him through avoidable puddles. But he didnt care. He wasnt walking through puddles, it wasnt past midnight, and he wasnt alone.

The street turned. It made its way between buildings, through tunnels and down black alleyways, leading him through the darkness. The pavement - it cant forget; memories become landmarks.

The stars began to show. He lifted his head to the eyeless moon peeking through the clouds. When did the sun stop shining? He silently questioned the mute replacement. Drip...drip. His question was answered. A year, a year that emptiness had been filling with every tear - till he would drown. Drown in the memories - the ones that were calling him tonight.

The clouds were parted. The skies were left barren and cold; the stars were as frozen tears, suspended. A warm tear broke free and fell across the cheek of the night as his own began to fall.

A car rushed past. He closed his eyes and sighed. Lifting his feet he climbed the steps to that place where everything seemed to come together and fall apart at once. He cried, its too late...but its the closest I can be...
It was dark. You could barely see him, kneeling down on the concrete; his arms raised up and his forehead tipped forward on the cracked red of the door. Alone. Memories can seem so real...But they can never be real enough.