a man walks a road, alone, searching. he doesn't know what for, exactly, but he'll know it when he sees it.

there are others on the road. they too seem to be searching for something. no one knows quite what is sought, but they too know that when they see it they'll recognize it. the others walk the road, not alongside the man, but on the same road. the faces of the others come and go. occasionally one's path will cross the man and they might speak, might stop and spend some time together. they may even walk alongside each other for a while, each still seeking their own something.

a new face joins the crowd. they talk. she is beautiful, inside and out. they talk for a long time. before long they find they're walking together, talking, laughing, enjoying the walk. from their conversations, it would seem they're both seeking the same thing. they walk together for awhile, happy to have found a companion on the same journey, even more pleased with how they mesh, how much they have in common, amazed at how they seem to be seeking the same thing.

after a while he turns to look at her and is shocked to find her several feet away. still walking, still headed in the same general direction, but (how?) he's disturbed to see the distance between them. even more, she's talking to someone behind her. not having a conversation, but chatting, perhaps, and turning to look over her shoulder at him more and more often. he's not alarmed really, because he sees that she's talking to someone she's known for a long time.

as they walk on he can see that she's no longer walking in the same direction. she's talking over her shoulder so much, looking back at her friend so much that she's begun veering to the side. it's nothing, the man tells himself, they're old friends, of course they have things to talk about yet. but she's still searching, still looking for what's missing, and still the description fits what he's looking for, so all is okay, right?

as he walks on, she still talks to him, they still laugh, they still enjoy their shared time on the path. he knows, as she does, that the other would be a good companion to finish the walk with. he smiles, happy, because he realizes that he has found what was missing, what he sought. and he's happy too because when he looks at her, she's smiling and he knows it's because she's found what she sought as well. and though the road continues into the distance past the point of seeing, it's okay now because he has her to walk with.

he turns to her to tell her of his thoughts. he's startled to find that she's not astride him as he thought. panicked, he looks everywhere until he finds her.

and when he does, it all changes. he knew that there would be dark nights on the road, there always are, but so soon? just moments ago the sun shone brightly on his world and now twilight falls.

for he has found her. she has stepped to the side of the road, no longer walking and stands talking to her friend, the one that was behind her. but she's no longer looking over her shoulder at him. she stands, facing him, looking instead over her shoulder at the man on the path. he's confused, upset, hurt. she is too, and sad. she looks at him, then further down the path, back at him and then at her friend.

as the man looks in her eyes and she into his, tears well and cloud his vision, and hers. the world wobbles, his knees weaken, despair fills him as he wonders how he can possibly go on, for he knew already that his search had ended and that for him and, he'd hoped for her too, the road had changed from a road of searching to a road of living. he'd -felt- it in her and was positive she had too. yet when he looks at her, she's holding the hand of her friend, standing suddenly with her friend in the same place that they'd built and shared for years.

he stands, unable to move, afraid he'll never be able to move again, sentenced through eternity to looking at her standing with her friend, in -their- place, in -their- life, where -he- is the intruder. this road is too difficult he thinks, i can't go on, not alone, not without her. but she's no longer on the path, no longer searching. in such a short time he went from wandering to finding the path to search to finding -the one- to having none. from none to one to none.

he stumbles, falls. he doesn't have the strength to go on, not yet, perhaps never. why continue traveling down this road when what he seeks is now behind him? he could walk to her, reach for her, but she's no longer on the road.

those who see him tell him the sun always rises; it's darkest just before the dawn; tomorrow's a new day. these things he knows. what they don't know is that for him, it's only one minute after sundown. the glow of the day, his days on the path walking with her, still lights the sky and glows within and around him, still warms him. the warmth of her sun will linger on his skin and in his eyes for a long time.

but as night falls, he knows: it's going to be a very long, cold night.