The diner was alive with people tonight. I was used to being here all by myself. Staring out the window, watching the world go by. For some reason, these happy folk felt the need to invade my sanctuary tonight, and it was almost unbearable.

"What're ya having tonight, hon?" asked my faithful waitress Deb, in the same uninterested voice as always.

"Same as usual. Light on the salt, heavy on the Xanax."

"Ha." Deb had this way of laughing that wasn't really a laugh. More like a statement of acknowledgment that you attempted humor.

I turned my face back toward the fingerprint stained window. It was raining outside, heavily. I pressed my burning forehead to the cool glass, and stared at the street outside. People were bustling back and forth with bags and newspapers and the occasional umbrella over their heads, trying to avoid getting soaked. It never rains here.

As the busy people with busy lives ducked in and out of shops and cafes, I noticed one newspaper headed man who looked strikingly familiar. As he emerged from the corner store and brazenly lit a cigarette despite the torrent, my heart soared. Mark. It was Mark. Save me Mark...Save me. I didn't realize I was saying the words out loud until I heard Deb say, "Who's Mark?"

I hurriedly scooted out of the booth, knocking over my coffee and pushing Deb out of the way. I ran out of the diner and into the deluge. He was still there, shielding his cigarette more than his head. I burst into the street, determined to throw my arms around him and beg him to take me away from here. Wherever he was going, I didn't care.

My knees hit the pavement before I realized what was happening. Somehow I managed to step into a pot hole that was hidden by a muddy pool of water. I scrambled to my feet, but instantly fell again. Something was wrong with my ankle.

"Mark! Mark! It's me! Lilith!" I screamed across the street. He looked up. I know he saw me. Our eyes met and I just knew everything would be alright at last. Then, as quickly as there was recognition, he flicked his cigarette into the gutter, folded up his paper, and got into a waiting taxi. Then he was gone.

I didn't notice the honking cars and the crowd of people that were all around me...asking me if I was OK or telling me to get the hell out of the way. All I felt was the cool rain as it ran down my face, mercifully masking the warm tears that were all too familiar.