text: As I watch the scene unfold around me, my melancholy is felt throughout my body... or what’s left of it. I am cold, shaking in the breeze of the dancers’ movements. Pushed further and further to the side of the room as each new attendee enters. No one can see me, but I see everyone. Shoes stick to the floor as spilled beer is danced upon. Techno music booms through the brand new stereo system. Chatter and laughter fill the air, creating an unpleasant constant battle to be heard over the music. A mix of sweat and alcohol can be smelled from every corner of the room. I look from face to face until I finally find the one I am waiting for. Cole comes in with his group of friends, the same ones he’s had since high school. His hair has grown out some and he seems to have lost a bit of weight. He and his friends walk up to the bar and order drinks, finding seats at a nearby table as they wait for the alcohol to arrive. I watch as drinks are set in front of each of them. He downed his beer in seconds flat, grabbing a waitress by the arm and telling her to keep them coming. His friends chat amongst themselves, but he sits in silence, staring off into the distance. Soon, he pulls out his phone and begins to scroll. From my position in the room, I am unable to see what he is looking at, so I decide it’s time to move in. Carefully, I drag myself toward his table, standing behind him. To my surprise, he is looking through his photos. Each time he comes across a picture of the two of us, he stops to stare for a moment then moves on. After a few minutes of this, his friends realize he is ruminating and take his phone from him, promising to return it at the end of the night. He attempts to argue for a moment, but gives up quickly. He tries his best to join the conversation after that, but from what I could see he was disinterested. When it seemed that sitting became boring for the guys, they took to the dance floor. Cole soon made his escape to the restroom though, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked. I decide to follow and see what more I can find out. In the bathroom, two men are smoking marijuana and blowing it out the window. After he uses the toilet and washes his hands, he hands the men five bucks and takes a hit from their joint. The three of them pass it back and forth for a few moments until it runs out. Cole shakes their hands and walks back to his friends, looking happier than before. Out on the floor, a couple of his friends have found cute dance partners for the night, leaving Cole and one other alone. The friend he is standing with soon gives him a shoulder squeeze and walks away toward the exit. Apparently Cole wasn’t the only one having an unsatisfying time at the club. After standing alone at the edge of the dance floor for a few minutes, watching the action in front of him, he begins to head toward the door as well. I quickly follow, making sure not to miss any of the action. Just as he is about to push the door open, a girl runs up and introduces herself. She had been watching him all night and just knew they had to meet. He seems uncaring about the girl, but they walk outside together. He was always a big fan of the outdoors, breathing in crisp cold winter air and watching his breath turn to clouds. They sit down on a bench near the club and she does her best to charm him with her bubbly personality. It doesn’t seem to work though, because that’s not what he likes. He likes a girl who is real. Someone down to earth - not afraid to get muddy, jump in lakes from tall cliffs, watch documentaries, read books, cook and eat exotic cuisines. The list could go on and on. The girl we were both looking at checked her phone at least five times in the few minutes that they were talking. He would never be happy with someone like her. I guess it’s curious how I could know all of this, the only clue provided so far being the pictures of us on his phone. We were in love. It was the greatest romance that ever was. At least it felt that way to us. We met freshman year of college. We both majored in environmental studies and were partnered up to do a project on air pollution. After working many hours together to produce the perfect presentation, we realized we wanted to spend more time together. So, we began dating. Immediately, we hit it off as something more and never looked back. After senior year was over, we planned to move into our first apartment, preparing to spend the rest of our lives together. We had so many things we wanted to do. We were going to parasail above Hawaii and go safariing in Kenya. There were cruises to take, ghost tours to attend, horrible roadside attractions to see... we wanted to do it all! During our final semester, I began to feel very sick and went to see the doctor. After many tests were run, I was diagnosed with osteosarcoma... bone cancer. I spent months in the hospital and Cole was there for it all. He loved me and that’s all that mattered. That was until the amputation. When I needed my arm to be removed because the tumor was not responding to radiation treatment, Cole said he would never be able to look at me the same. I told him he should go then, so he could still have the image of the girl he fell in love with in his head. I never thought he would leave, but he did. I cried more tears about his going than I ever cried about cancer. I thought we were forever. The next day, my right arm was amputated, but complications ensued. Before anyone was ready for goodbye, I was gone. My parents cried for what seemed like an eternity and when they called Cole, the most heart wrenching scream blasted through the phone. This was it. At age twenty-two my life was over before it ever had a chance to begin. “I’m sorry, Addie. I’m sorry.” Cole spoke into my voicemail box after the girl finally left him alone. “I just want to go back. I would love you without any limbs. I need you. How am I ever going to love again? I wish it was me.” Then he hung up. He put his phone in his pocket and began to walk home, to what was going to be our apartment. I couldn’t follow him. It wasn’t my place anymore. He needed to grieve alone. I didn’t know if he could tell I was there, but I knew and that was enough. He was going home and so was I, but those places would never be the same.