He walks by every day and every night. His body speaks, on the inside. Under his breath he feels his emotions, and under his grasps for air come frustration that in his eye'll never change. Hes walked by before, now when he does it he'll ignore where she was, where she is. They danced before and the summer saw them, times not over but one day maybe they'll see. One night he leaves a card, he wants to see her face again. He can't be romantic anymore, that part of him is fading away,again. It'll be lost like everythihg else forever more. Cellar door, in the back of his mind, he asks what he must do to make her mine? He'll go back with those cards of his, and let it all go, but not let his emotions flow in case nothing comes back from this. He remembers her from when they first spoke, and where they did meet. From the season when he gave up, instead they would soon meet, he'll wish she would never give up.
