She's lying alone, thinking.

He's at Her home now. He'll stay there until dawn she presumes. The Girl likes to get high, and he will probably join Her. Maybe he might just kiss Her, touch Her breasts. He's done that before, and She likes it.

Their friends know She likes him, that She can see he will be very useful to Her.

He says he will never want Her. Her personality does not suit his. She uses people, She ditched people, She's messed up.

"What about them?" she thinks. "What about us?" They were messed up too, and it was beautiful.

He will get high. He will kiss Her. And the girl remembers how his lips felt when his body was slow with smoke. His kisses are long, loving and lazy then.
Exquisite.
The girl can hardly remember, but her heart can still feel them.

"I love you! I need you! Come back to me. Come home to me", she cries out loud, her pillow enveloping most of her sobs.

"You love me! Yes, I know you do. Come back before it's too late. Please!" Tears drip out of her tired eyes. That ache resonates through her chest. It's the thump of a lover long gone.

She slept peacefully only when he spoke to her. Then her heart would calm down. Now she clutches at pillows and the sands of fading memories.

It's always cold when not even the thought of a future can warm you. The future can simply never be.
She is lonely without fresh memories.

And again, she will cry herself to sleep on a lonely night.