There's a pause between passing cars; the highway is barren, and the whole world seems terrifyingly empty. Especially to me, the restless boy who sits crouched on the curb, watching his surroundings with dull, opaque eyes. Eyes that seem sad, and maybe as empty as the highway before me. Usually it's busy, always made noisy by backed up traffic. Noisy and loud, with honking horns and indignant drivers screaming at one another from the cover of their cars––proving the people of the city's have long since forgotten their manners.

Which, actually, is the reason why I came out here so much. Not to think, but the exact opposite: to lose myself. To lose myself among the morning chaos, to become detached from all my problems and simply drift .. up, up, and away ..

It's no use, of course. I can never really forget.

But still .. everything I have, I would give to not know what I know. To not feel emptiness as my constant companion, to not glance sidelong at my reflection and be reminded why I can't quite look myself in the eyes.

I'm not getting enough air. The room feels so small all of a sudden. Oh–oh, no ..

Fuck, it's pathetic to be this lonely––and know it. To keep breathing in spite of it, to be silent and alone. And to know.

To know that I'll never feel truly alive again, unless I'm with him, and even then, things will just be okay. Not great. Not amazing or fantastic, just okay.

Except at this point, I'd do anything for okay, because right now, I feel fucking awful. I can't take it, this constant pain. I want it to go away, all these thoughts of him, the memory of his big, strong hands on my body; and the desperate, horrible need to feel them again.

Some people feel like they don't deserve love. They walk away quietly into empty spaces, trying to close the gaps of the past.

You have to understand, I am one of those people. And this is my story.