I stare blankly at the empty pages ahead of me - empty pages scattered on my floor. When all I asked for was a little peace and quiet, it wasn't just that. Funny - I always imagined you the one to break down because of myself. I'm frequently asked the same question from others.

And why should I hate you. you did nothing to me. And even if you did, I wouldn't hate you. It wouldn't be in me.

And how long before the wind rakes the dead leaves off the side walk again? Will he meet me in the middle? He glides with such rhythm, I cannot comprehend his whispers. Does he know I want to be like him, or at least with him. Do I wait for a storm to see you again? Because I'll wait outside while the clouds are crying just to be there, with you.