Outside the streets are empty of traffic, leaving a void that desperately needs to be filled drifting aimlessly from one abandoned building to another. The streetlights have begun to flash nothing but yellow since they have neither need nor purpose at this hour of the night. These are the moments that I treasure with MB: moments in which nothing eventful really happens. It is just the two of us slowly tracing the double yellow line of an abandoned downtown street in a forgotten city. These are the moments when we just are. We are who we are without having to prove anything, without having to explain ourselves, without the complexities of life surrounding us. These are the moments in life that we can just sigh and not worry about anything. But then as one lone car makes us retreat back to the sidewalk, reality hits. There will be no more of these moments. I will leave in the morning.