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?