"We moved a few months after you left, remember? I never thought I'd ever be back here, let alone with you."

"Hmm. You're right, though. The view from this place ~is~ better at night."

"It's because you never stayed long enough."

"It's not like we had a choice."

"Yes, we did. And we chose what would make us grow."

"But don't you ever think about what could've happened if we stayed here a little bit longer that afternoon five years ago?"

"If you'd held and kissed me longer?"

"Yes."

"If you'd loved me just a tad bit truer?"

The big dipper's moved a couple of degrees since I laid down on this roof to feel the summer night's soft breeze, looked up at the stars and decided that I would wait for you.

I'll wait for the chilly wind to roll away that blanket of clouds shrouding my vision.

I'll wait for tired city lights to go to sleep, one by one.

I'll wait for planes to pass and birds to fly by because they're just not you.

And when you come, even in brevity, I will catch every part of you that comes crashing down to my atmosphere fast and brightly:

though sometimes too fast for me to see and sometimes too far for me to notice.

I will let you light up my sky, blaze across the darkness in my vision.

Paint a smile on my face,

and drop a tear in my eye

and hear my wish.

And I'll wait for you again.

time

is

slow,

but also fast.

it is slowest

when I count the days til

I'll

see

you

next.

it is fastest when I realize that it's already been that long since I've seen you last.

just taking its time

tick,

tock,

tick.

tock.

my, how time flew by.

I don’t know much about prose

but there isn’t much that I can do with my words

now that you’re not here for me to speak with.

Now that you’re not here to put your hand on my knee,

now that you’re not here to hold my hand,

to walk around the streets at night,

to ride buses with,

to bring me home safely.

Now that you’re not here,

now that you’re not here,

now that you’re not here.

Now,

words are all that’s left for us

because there’s no other way to let you know

how big a part of me went missing

since you went away.

Now that you’re not here.