All For Nothing
Though his eyes ached tremendously, he kept on. His steps were direct and with more purpose than he'd imagined they could have. Paper flew through the air, wild and free, around his quickening feet. He felt perhaps the idea he had once had to see her again after all this time wasn't such a bad idea after all.
In after thought of course, he would hate himself and vow never to do something quite as foolish ever again. He would hate himself.
Her apartment was only a few blocks now, and the music he once knew so well began to stir and blare it's message throughout his head. As he passed a hot dog vendor making a killing on such a cold and bitter Chicago day, Mark could imagine the look on her face when he came to her door looking for something - like a love which had died so many years ago.
She would think him a fool. She would think him a bit skewed in the mind. He wasn't outrightly concerned with what she thought of him, just so long as she did.
The papers which had been swirling at his feet had been replaced by freshly dried leaves, brown and brittle beneath his nervous footsteps. His eyes were glazed as he thought of times he would never be able to forget. Times when she and he had sat in the back of his convert Bug, smoking pot, drinking beer, and not caring about anything in the world.
He realized that perhaps a cigarette may be needed to calm his nerves a bit. After he had lit his hand-rolled beauty, he released the smoke into the harsh wind just as this confrontation was soon to do. Too soon. Too fast. Too many uncertainties. Too many questions that he was too afraid to answer. Too many answers that he wasn't sure if he was willing to give to her after all of this time. Too late.
As he stood beneath her third story home, he flicked his pseudo-joint into a nearby gutter and raised his head for a breath of fresh air. His eyes fixed on her bedroom window. He saw her standing near it, with someone else. They talked for a few seconds and then embraced. Embraced more passionatly than he had expected.
Mark reached deep into his pockets in a frightened, madening stretch. As he walked away, his thoughts drifted to times when she had spoken softly, words which made sense only to the two of them. He smiled. His thoughts drifted to times when they would both sit in silence. Sit in comfortable silence while they forgot about the burden of daily life. His thoughts wandered to the day she told him she was leaving, and she had hoped to be friends. He wondered how long she had felt that way before finally coming clean.
His footsteps were slower now. His heals dragged as he shuffled through the sidewalk rubbish, rarely swept up in this day and age. After lighting another cigarette, he let the smoke escape and disappear into the wind like his hope and dreams had. Though his mind wandered this way and that, he was sure that the look that would have been on her face would have stayed in his mind for days. And for months. And years. And years.