The city is at its most beautiful at the crux of nightfall.
Lights flicker on, stars appear.
And people become more free.
At this time, when I'm walking down the crowded streets alone, what hurts more is that there's no one to share this beauty with.
If there was someone here, we could walk down these streets side by side.
Left, right, left.
We wouldn't speak a word, I think. Instead, our fingers could bump into each other every so often, like a passage of silent understanding.
Once in awhile, we could turn to look at each other and smile.
I would pause and notice that he hadn't shaved this morning.
He would pause to count the number of flickering lights reflected in my eyes.
Occasionally we could stop altogether and simply stare at the people walking past.
There might be a busker playing a sad love song.
My eyes might suddenly become watery.
I would turn and begin to whisper, "Isn't this just so..."
But he would stop me with a soft laugh and a grin of understanding.
"I know," His eye crinkles would say.
"I feel this way everyday too."
