I took a seat on the bus, across from some curly-haired youth. He regarded me with dark brown eyes, seeming to try to learn me. I simply met his eyes and nodded, muttering a Happy New Year to him and glancing out the window. I dimly heard him say it back, but didn't pay any heed. It's just one of the things about riding a bus, you don't talk to anyone, nobody talks to you. It's a very good place for contemplation really.

Especially on a night like this.

As the bus moves from stop to stop I look out the window and see all the people returning to their cars or walking to bars, some swaying drunkenly, others stopping to kiss each other, all of them laughing and smiling. For most it's a joyous occasion, a reason to party. I won't join in on the festivities though, my New Years Eve was spent quietly by the waterside of Puget Sound. I had walked down to the beach and found a quiet area alone, so I could let my thoughts wander, reflecting on the events of this year. So much had happened, friends gained and lost, jobs changing, the move from Arizona to Washington. It was peaceful, even though it was spent alone. I was able to think about you.

Now, as I see the streetlights fly by, blurred by raindrops on the fogged window, I see them as passing gems, akin to the small treasures one accumulates in life. Valuable, but passing before one can truly appreciate their beauty. You and I had talked about that on so many occasions my dear. I miss those conversations we'd have, talking about whatever caught our fancy, sharing and forming philosophies and hypotheses on how the world existed, the way people operated. Yes, it's true, I miss talking to you.

That youth is looking at me again, his curls bouncing with each jolt of the bus not quite gliding on the uneven street. His eyes seem to disect me, questioning but not pressing. It's strange, predatory but not oppressive. I don't know what his purpose is, but for now he is not bothering me. I've got my thoughts to occupy myself with. Like these memories of your eyes, the depths held within a shining hazel. Your eyes caught my attention right away, the glint in them that blended perfectly with yor perfect face. The shape, the way your chestnut hair framed your visage, it was as if an angel was walking about. Then I saw your paintings, and you truly caught my attention with that. I longed to know how you thought, the way you created your works.

We became friends fast, and I learned much from you. You kept me pushing to be a better person, made me strive to be the man I am today. This thought makes my vision glaze over for a moment, knowing I'm nowhere near you. Right now is one of the many times during the past year that I have yearend to be with you, to feel your hand in mine. I can almost hear the song Wait For Me being played, can almost feel the both of us swaying together as the music plays.

Realization hits: I do hear that song. My eyes open and I casually look around to find the source of the melody, and my gaze rests on the curly haired youth. He is singing it softly, perhaps he has someone on his mind as well. "You are not alone tonight, imagine me there by your side."

My stop, and not a moment too soon. I rise from my seat and walk, keeping my head down in the common neutrality of city dwellers, and dwell on those lines. But I am alone tonight, imagining you here only makes it worse. Such a distance lies between our two hearts that it cannot be crossed. It's a measure, called Life, that separates you and I. And who am I to sever that tie, to close that distance in a moment?

My steps tap on the concrete sidewalk as my thoughts begin to race, desire to close that distance coming strong. So many methods, so many ways. I walk past a bar, and temptation pulls. More than one way to drown this darkness, this world empty of your radiant smile. I nearly walk in when I recall your disappointment in me on that occasion I had gotten drunk. I am no drinker, and that alone hurt. Knowing your disappointment in me hurt so much more though.

I walk on, exploring more possibilities, but I can hear your voice each time talking me out of the stupidity, the idiocy of taking my own life into my hands in such a way. I can almost feel your arms around me, and I almost hug back, only ending up hugging myself from the cold winter night. I can't do it, this distance must remain, for a while longer. Even with you gone, I can't bring myself to make you disappointed. Time to head home now.