The city was empty. The skyscrapers during the day looked powerful and full of promise. At night, they just looked like pieces of art. The hustle and bustle of New York was beginning to bug me, for the first time ever. I was going to walk far, but I'd see someone. So I stayed in my quiet neighborhood, passing by restaurants and apartment buildings. "Being alone was possibly the worst thing that has ever happened to me." I thought to myself. From then on, that's all I could think about. That sentence rang in my head like a dinner bell. I looked down and suddenly I was running. I didn't know where I was running to, I was just going. It went from just me on my block, to running past a million people leaving a Broadway show. I shoved through some girls from Jersey, and heard them yelling as I crossed the street. I didn't stop sprinting until I came to your apartment, your floor, your hallway, your door. Then I froze. I wanted to knock, to kiss you, not even greet you, just kiss you. Like the couples who break up in movies. But now I realized what I had done. I walked down the quiet staircase, and walked back home. It was midnight when I climbed into bed alone.