eight forty-five pm

I fear growing old without someone to love. Reaching the end and realizing that I am alone—another birthday passes and I have no one to share my year with; a walk in the park or a meal at a restaurant with myself for company; days that fade into nights that fade into days, and all along I am in the presence of absence. Expired romance, haunting memories, and the lingering nostalgic scent of past lovers and forever moments.