i walk down the all-to-familiar road

headphones in my ears, our—my—favourite band floating through

a faint smile on my face as i walk past another familiar place

i stop in my tracks and turn towards the building—a yellowed chinese restaurant we used to love

i walk through the parking lot and make my way to the door

a rusted "open" sign hangs on the door

memories rush through me of love-filled smiles and slurping noodles from forks because we never got around to learning how to use chopsticks

a small tear falls from my crystal-like eyes

i sigh as the song i'm listening to ends, switching to a new song—our song

"hey, babe," i hear a voice call behind me, arms wrapping around my waist

the headphones fall out of my ears as i turn to face him

i kiss him quickly before opening the glass door, the memories becoming clearer with the smell of chinese food surrounding us

he leads me to our old booth, just like you used to

i wish you were him

but you'd never go for the chopsticks, would you?