I step outside to clear my mind. My eyes drift to the stars in the night sky above and I wonder about the many possibilities there are. I don't hear you slip beside me, and I don't startle when you whisper my name. Somehow I knew that you were there.

"It was never supposed to be like this," you say as you, too, stare up into the night sky. "This was never how it was supposed to happen."

"And what happened?" I ask, turning to look at you. You keep your head forward and avoid looking at me, a sure sign that you do not want to be here right now.

You sigh, and run your fingers through your dark hair. "Distance. Life. I don't know."

I exhale. You're right: distance, life, it all had a part in this. "We could have worked out, you know," I say.

You shake your head fiercely and I have to push down the urge to brush the fallen strands of hair from your face. "No, we couldn't have. Long-distance relationships never work."

"Never say never unless you are certain about something. You haven't ever tried out a long-distance relationship."

You are frustrated with me, I can see it in your stance. Your shoulders are tense and they strain against your shirt. Your hands run furiously through your hair. "They never work. You've seen the movies, read the stories."

"But there is always a first."

Again, you shake your head and now the urge to wipe away your hair is nonexistent. You had no faith before and you still have no faith. I decide to get myself away from your presence before your lack of faith begins to tear me down.

"Take care," I say to you, and I kiss your soft cheek one more time. I savor that moment to keep it stored in my memory bank, to relive the happy moments spent with you.