We stood watching lights of a city I would soon leave behind. Atop the hotel roof, we clung to each other on my last night in Cleveland. The triangle-shaped Rock Hall was lit beautifully. The river below, the stadium where the Browns played just a short ways away. It had been an incredibly hot day for Ohio; yet we held hands the entire day. Woke up with fans blasting, drinking ice water that had turned lukewarm overnight. My feet stuck to his hard wood floors, making squeaking noises as I walked to the kitchen in my summer pajamas; a night shirt that I only wore when I had someone to impress, and he was sure impressed. We walked through Cleveland's city streets that day holding sweaty hands, pointing left and right at landmarks. Stopping to kiss every so often, knowing we'd soon be separated. That night atop the hotel roof was the last time we would ever see each other, leaving 10 seemingly short years behind us. I left my heart in Ohio that night...