It was a simple equation that even I could not solve. I wanted it to turn into dust and blow over like the dandelions in the field the other day where I accidentally kicked up a wind with my foot and watched the seeds flutter away. I am growing tired of people and the things we produce.

I miss the antiques, the knick-knacks that everyone seemed to collect and place elegantly on their cherry-red wood shelves behind glass doors. It was supposed to be a touching moment in which I could set my fingers gently above the ledge and watch the imprints be left behind as I dragged the tips down and write words with the condensation, what a sensation.

They would stand with their mouth agape and I would watch with wandering eyes until I realized that people do not work here anymore. And sometimes, you really are alone when you notice that it is just you under the obsidian skies with the twilight stars that shine behind clouds.

So you would take pictures of people’s soul for your scrapbook; then you would confirm that you really are alone. So, you sit at the top of that roof while I stood below, looking up at you but you do not take notice of me because I am just a ghost tonight. It is a cold reminder for you -- that day when everything left you like; when she got on that plane and left for Chicago and you were here in the state of Georgia.

“When are you leaving,” you asked and still you would never get an answer. It would always be, “soon,” and that was the last you ever heard of her. You did not even get a call the day she left and you were heartbroken when you reached the doorsteps; her mother told you that she had left for Chicago in search of something.

I do not know what it was but I could tell that the look on your face was in dismay. Did I know you? I thought I did. Do not be alarmed when one day, you see her name in the news headlines and you are still in the same place you were months ago. I suppose that is why they said to move on because if you do not, you will be forever stuck in the same time frame, looping and repeating until your hair grows grey and the lines in your skin gets deeper, misleading, and dry.

And when you die and pass, they would not remember you for anything else but the man who grew old with the stars.