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I met her the other day, as we were walking down the stairs… I felt suddenly the need to ask her if she was going to stay. I was embarrassed with myself, for asking such a blatantly selfish question. I already knew the answer, I always know the answer. The question was becoming a rhetoric.

She left. I walked down to the eat out at the corner of the street and sat down. Something was wrong. Sometimes you just get used to things happening around you. You take them for granted. The empty chair next to me seemed and felt emptier, because it was unoccupied. And not just because it was unoccupied. It was empty. I hope I'm making sense here. When we say something, it has to make sense right? Well, then this didn't make any sense. The room was filled empty chairs, why would I feel this way about the one next to me?

I allowed myself a smile as I contemplated the fact that I had irrevocably pinned my hopes of happiness to this chair next to me.

Yesterday I was sitting right here, people around. Faces I knew, and faces I didn't. Not one chair was left unoccupied, even the one next me. But yet the same emptiness clung my heart like a weight suspended on chains. Even if it was occupied, that chair will always seem and feel empty to me. As I told you... the question was a rhetoric. And rhetoric questions never need answering. I already knew, she wouldn't be staying.