He sat there unescorted and alone, at the rusted rooftop where they had shared their first kiss, looking out past the intrusion of skyscrapers into the sunset. It was wondrously beautiful just as she was. The effervescent colors illuminating the sky just as the colors of her eyes radiated her resplendent smile. He reminisced about their romance and the time they had consumed together. He recalled the bickering and how the uproar of the disagreements had lit up the dimness of their relationship which often led to a much more spirited love. He couldn’t quiet grasp the reason why she had left but he valued independence and so he valued their estrangement. He never asked for consent or permission, only forgiveness and she never asked for exorbitant gifts but he kept presenting her with them. The stains on his ragged slate jeans and the spatters on her scarlet skirt illustrated the relish of their time spent at the forsaken art studio at the corner of his street. They shared two summers together; comprehensive and eventful. Somedays they would spend hours together whether it was at her unruffled house or down by the windswept seaboard, but other days, not even a phone call would be received. He had never endured a love for someone quite like this, and with that came the fact that he had never endured a tragic separation like this. Clasping the beer he had purloined from his father’s fridge, he unfastened it and drank and drank and drank until there was no more beer. Until there was no more affectionate sentiments for her.