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I was crying on his shoulder again.  Well, actually, he was leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette.  And there were no tears.  I was no where near him.  Just leaning against the lamp post.  The wind howling around the corner.  Making the pole shake a bit, and my coat seem much too thin.  1

"So, what is it this time?"  he asked.  2

"He never wished me a Happy New Year. Last year we spent New Years Eve together. Talked the old year out...the new one in"  I said.  "And he forgot my birthday.  Not so much as even one happy birthday."  I wasn't sure he was really listening, but I kept on as if he was.  "I mean, I didn't really expect a card...certainly not a gift.  But I did expect him to mention it...even if it was only in passing."3

He took a deep draw off his cigarette, I watched the ash turn dark red at the end in response to his inhaling..or the wind gust..that blew past.4

"Doesn't surprise me," he said.. and I was a bit taken back by the resentment I heard in his voice. "Why do you keep chasing him,then? Why not just stop...and let him chase you?"..I heard the softer edge.5

"Because he wouldn't"  I whispered.  A deep truth, I stumbled on just recently.   6

"Then what have you lost?"  he asked.7

"My heart" ...I said.8