The rain poured over me like a blanket, but warmth was the last thing on my mind. My light brown trench coat was drenched and dripping wet, yet still I waited. I clutched the bouquet of roses in my right hand, praying that I would not leave still holding them. I remembered the sweet smell of those roses, the smell of love, almost incarnate. I lifted the bouquet to my nose once more, and as I closed my eyes I could almost make out her figure. Yes, I could see it now, her flowing blond hair, her dark brown eyes. The tight leather outfit that so many years ago had drawn my eyes to her. But it was so much more than that, so much deeper. I saw once again the blurry scene, walking, half-dead down the street. I thought life was over, I knew I was dead. But I wasn't afraid, no, not the slightest bit. I was ready to die, always had been, life just seemed like a dream, a dream you never wake up from. I was ready; I was ready to wake up from that dream. But then the dream continued. And just as I was about to fall onto the pavement with my final breath, I made out her shape moving from the door. When I woke up, it was all I could do to breath without sharp pain traveling up and down my body, but somehow I felt so comfortable. Her voice, a melody of joy, a song that reminded me of a shattered past that no one could remember and no one could tell. Then, she leaned over me, with those eyes, that hair, her beautiful face. And it was that exact moment that I knew I was in love.
I puffed from my cigarette slowly, which was now reduced to little more than the filter. The rain still poured down on me, the cold becoming distinct, but still I stood. I surveyed the area around me, looking about the fields of gray and green. The cemetery was never my first choice of meeting places, not because of a fear of death, but simply because of the people who lived in those cardboard boxes under the earth. I didn't know them, and I never would, but somehow we were connected, we both were mortal. They had just woken up before me, and now they were somewhere real, somewhere else. Again I took a drag of my cigarette, but then I simply let it drop from my lips on the concrete. It hit the curb and sparked for a moment, before the pelting rain put out its fire, its passion for life. I could empathize so well. It looked like I would leave with the flowers; it looked as though I would leave without her. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after, I knew not. But one thing I did know is that some day, maybe years in the future, but someday, I will meet her again. We will be together, and we will die together, on the same day even, the same night. We'd wake up together, and we'd leave this world forever. Life is just a dream that's never ending, so as long as I sleep, I might as well live it.