Time is finite.
And I have chosen to spend my time on you.
But now I must spend my time waiting. Wishing. Watching. Wasting away over something I didn't do and couldn't control.
Who will you find waiting here, and who will you be?
What do you expect me to say?
Where will our heart lines cross again?
When will you come back?
Why do you think it's okay? Why do I want it to be, and why do I want it to not?
How can we ever mend this rift?
And for what? Who will ever know, until the end?
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