She doesn’t understand how she could love something that makes her feel so bad. Someone who embarrassed her. Left her. Hurt her. She does not understand why she would want to be in his presence after all he has done. Is she lonely? Does she really love him? Is she infatuated with him because she can not have him? Why would she love something so broken? All the songs that she listens to make sense. They speak their story so perfectly, but their response to the behavior is not what she wants. His reputation is bad. His friends apologize for him. She walks alone even when she walks with him, but she wants to be with him. Looking at him. Watching how he turns up to radio or turns it down to hear her speak. She knows that no one understands why she would want to stay with him, but she doesn't understand either. People ask how they are and she always stays positive because she doesn’t want them to judge her if she stays with him. She wants them to stop asking questions because she doesn’t want to lie. Maybe she is lying to herself. The whole way home, it was dark. Dark enough that he could not see how much she hurt. She allowed herself to release her smile. The corners of her mouth dropped and they sat with only the music to break the silence. The last five minutes with him, she sat in his passenger car seat and watched everything he did. He talked to her about her animals and asked directions to her house in the dark of night. Pulling onto her street, he turned his music off. She believed this would be the last time she would ever see him. This is where she should say goodbye, but no. He parked the car. She smiled, knowing that the car lights would come on and her mask must be put back on. He unbuckled his seatbelt and her heart fluttered. She had not expected him to walk her to the door. She did not have a full or logical reason for this, but she was happy for a small time. He apologized for how awkward everything had been. She barely listened to him. All she could hear was his voice and the sound of his footsteps on the concrete. They smelt of cigarette smoke and flowers. For the seconds it took for him to walk her to the door, her heart fluttered. She was overwhelmed by this bliss. In the dark, she could see his awkward movements, like he was planning to hug her. She didn’t move back. She decided that if he wanted to hug her that he would make a more direct move. He waited at the door for her mother to unlock the door. He shook her parents hands and with a “see you around” he left. Her parents asked her how the night was and without showing them, she fought the tears threatening to show. She did not know, in the moment, why she wanted to cry. She still is unsure, but feels it might be because that was the last time she would see him. See him the way he was. Closing that front door, closed the door to them. She was separate from him and he from her. Again she asks herself, why. Why would she do this to herself? The door was forced shut, yet she was the one to shut it. Oh, how she wishes she could go back and pause the time where he looked at her in the darkness.