I am sitting outside a Starbucks on a warm day.
The breeze is blowing my hair everywhere. I have to leave for work in 10 minutes. I could leave now.  But something about the sun. About waiting. The noises of traffic zooming by.
There's a man smoking a cigarette in his car on the edge of the parking lot.  He is waiting too.
The next moment. 
The next lie. 
The next kiss.
Nothing is sad until it is over and then everything is. 
But everything is always over.  Everything is always starting.

Will I get tired soon of starting? Over and over again.  Oh well. I should go.  There's no point in waiting anymore.