People are constantly questioning "how come there's tears in your eyes?" I blink and ponder the question, causing a droplet to roll down my cheek. They don't realize that they're the same tears that have remained since the day you left me. Why did you get in that cab? I still recall the cab number, 597. The same month and year we were both born. You told me to remember that number because that's how many roses you would return with. With a kiss goodbye, you hopped in the cab. The illuminated 597 slowly disappeared as you departed down the road. The pavement was slick from the December snow. It was 3am when my phone lit up with an unknown number. I heard the news. I instantly felt a part of me shatter. My mother had to drive me to the hospital because my eyes were so overwhelmed with tears. I could still hear your laugh. The same laugh from the time I accidently fell off of our bed. The same bed that is half empty, still hoping you'd return. On the day of your funeral, many tears were she'd by family and friends, but I remained quiet. I never spoke a word, never changed my ****** expression, never shed a tear. As I closed the door to our apartment, I got the breathe knocked out of me as I collapsed to the floor. I couldn't breathe knowing that you weren't coming home. I caught my breathe and finally stood up. I switch on the lights and a tear escaped my eye as I turned around. In our apartment was 597 roses.