The sun sets at 6:05 pm and it's not even pretty because we're sitting on the wrong side of the tallest building in town. The laughs have become tired and a little forced. The conversation is dwindling and your hand is twitching to answer your phone. But it's cold so we'll sit folded into each other and you'll blow hot hair on to my ice-cold fingers and maybe we can keep pretending for a little longer. We are nearing our end after all. So the sun sets and the sky goes grey just like our love, but it will be black and empty and gone soon my darling, worry not. We sit in silence both waiting for the other to say something, to ask something. But we don't talk about what we really feel anymore and your reason is that you don't feel anything and my reason is that I feel too much and everyone is just waiting. We are two seeds that were planted together long ago. I did all the watering for us my love and I sat and I waited and I watered. Day after day and month after month. But I have become disgusted with waiting because our love never even breaks the surface of the soil and it is there it is there I know it is. But I have always likened you to sunshine and I  guess I had to realize that no matter how much love I poured into you, our flowers cannot bloom when the sun never sticks around long enough.