When nothing is left, there is always us

I love how I drive through abandoned streets, surrounded by pitch blackness interruptetd only by the soft glows from overhead lamps and the penetrating headlights, searching- searching for you. I love how they unerringly find you. I love how I stand outside, breath mingling with the night air until you fling open the door and hold it open, waiting. I love how you tell me to relax, asking if it is so bad to be close to you. I love how fifteen minutes prior, you had verified that I knew our relationship was nothing more than meaningless. I love how, the next day, every muscle aches.