Sal couldn't breathe. And he couldn't stand running through a huge group of people. They didn't have much to hurry for. Some of them were walking calmly to trains, while others were meeting thier loved ones after riding in on one.

He was the only idiot in the place litteraly pushing through people. He would have to apologize to the old lady with the walker he knocked flat on her butt later. Right now, Karen was his main focus.

Karen. She left Salvadore a message on his answering machine. Something about leaving him, because she couldn't keep playing house anymore. Playing house? What on earth does that even mean? He loved her, cherished her, and couldn't see himself with anyone else in his life!

And he planned on telling her this, because he didn't want her moving back to San Fransico with her mom. Karen was his love, his life! And he didn't want anyone else spending the rest of thier lives with her but him.

When he finally made it to the platform, after knocking over a toddler, he cursed harshly. And it wasn't because the toddler's mother hit him in his back with her gosh awfully heavy purse. It was because Karen's train had started already.

"No! Stop the train!" he yelled, running faster, not complaining about his shortness of breath, or his now screaming leg muscles.

He ran beside the train, looking through the windows. Finally, he saw her. Her long, raven black hair, hid her face somewhat. His heart cracked when he saw a lone tear sliding down her chin.

"Karen!" he shouted, banging against the glass by her head. "Karen! Karen!!!"

She finally looked up, a look of total loss on her face.

"Karen! Don't go! Marry me!" he continued to yell.

She just sat there, looking at him as though it were for the last time. She didn't move. Didn't stop the train, but sat there.

"Karen, please!"

She finally frowned, shook her head, and picked up her cell phone.

By this time, Sal had to stop running because the train could still move beyond the platform: he could not.

He picked up his cell phone and looked to see if she sent him anything. In a matter of minutes, he got a text message:

Leave me alone. Don't ever talk to me again. You had your chance, and I'm not waiting for you anymore.

Sal wished he had the sense to jump in front of the train while he had the chance.