I step through the door, from the staircase onto the roof. It’s the end of the movie. I’m surrounded by the city lights, but it’s still dark. The camera pans around me. Tides by The XX starts playing. I have my left hand in my jean’s pocket, and my right hand is down by my side, holding a bottle. I take breath, and the frosty air smokes up. I lift my right arm and take a sip. This is it. This is it how it all ends. The credits tumble, like the solemn tear from my eye. It’s cold out. But, that doesn’t bother me. The cold has always been refreshing. I close the door and lean against it. There’s no going back. There are no tides in the city, just an ocean of people to drown in. But, it’s like they all know you. And there’s no getting away from it all. No way to avoid it, like your carved into the door of a bathroom stall. The track ends, and Angels starts to play. I look up at the full moon, and wonder how it can coexist with the sun. I wonder how I’ll be able to live, being as in love with you as I am.