Yearbooks line the walls - showing faces year after year.

Newspapers scattered around, the date bold and underlined on the covers.

The clock ticks slowly, methodically....

Time is passing ever so slowly....

My eyes lift to rest on you - sitting there so quietly.....

'Be absent tomorrow.',

I pray....

Sometimes I wish I could turn back time so that there would never be an 'us'.

So that there would just be me and there would just be you.

And it wouldn't get any more complicated than that....