Every. single. night. I expect you on roller-blades with two cherry blossoms in the palm of your hand, waiting at the foot of my concrete driveway to apologize. I see your invisible figure outside my window as my eyes search for you, back and forth, left to right. Every. single. night. I sit in my bedroom and I stare down onto the empty light-less road and expect to see your presence, and than I remember that it was all just a lie.
-ML