In that brief moment, the young romance ignited the nights with the spark of adventure and endless possibilities. It arrived unexpectedly and left in haste. I was left to my own devices and the danger frightened me. I called continuosly into the dark but it stopped responding. In that moment, I was alone again. One moment I was blanketed with warmth. Now, I’m soaked to the bone and I don’t know how to run away from the cold. There are daggers in my chest as I struggle to let go of the tightness in my chest. I close my eyes and I see visions of IKEA pathways, white dresses and silhouettes of familiar faces laughing. When you succumb to the desperation of the heart, pathetic becomes the point of no return. For now, I’ll sit still, arms hugging my knees and my chin resting upon them. I shall wallow until I tire of it, until I have no choice but to get back up and get myself bruised all over again. There is no Montauk. Just the state, the placebo effect, of a place grander than rationality’s comprehension.