It was cold out. The weather matched his heart.
Burned again, he wandered. Aimlessly at first, without much purpose. Thinking of love lost, what could have been...he ended up in a park. At first he didn't notice the couple. Had he noticed, he would have left. But no, they caught him by surprise. The tenderness in which they regarded each other jarred him out of his own mind. Soft kisses, nuzzling each others' necks. . . god how he missed it. Maybe it wasn't real? He recalled a conversation with his friend:
"Man, your first girlfriend was a real whore. At least its not that bad."
"Well, you get what you pay for."
"You'll do better. Finding the right one is a journey. Hopefully it will pick up when she gets back."
"Hope is a word forlorn to me after the last one."
"There's always hope, my friend."
Well, hope, and clothes. There are always clothes. And beer. Two things that can't break your heart. In the end, maybe it was all in his head.