I walk aimlessly down the street, my fingers wrapped around my leather coat in an attempt to keep warm. My feet are aching, but I still walk, unable to stop to rest. I have to get there, and I have to get there soon. Who knows what will happen if I don't?

Finally, the aching is too much. I sit down on a stairwell, leading p to a seedy apartment building. What am I doing here? This is not my home. I do not belong in this dirty, disgusting place. But all I can concentrate on are my poor feet. They are so tired, tired from my unnamed journey. To where...I don't know. I'm not sure I will ever know.

I try to hide my tears, but they flow as freely as my blood. They are silent, and full of pain, but I'm not sure why I cry. I know my lover misses me. Is that why I cry? Or do I cry because I need him? I long for his engaging smile and warm touch. I long to see his beautiful face, but is that why I cry? Do I cry for a man?

My hair blows softly in the wind. I know it's now dark brown, but this hair blowing in the wind is deep red with thin black streaks...the way I always loved wearing my hair. My soul knows this. Instead of brown hair, my soul knows that my hair should be red.

"I think we should move the shoot somewhere else. It only makes it worse for him."

I know that voice. I look up, and see a beautifully handsome man, with dark hair and probably the most beautiful green eyes on the planet. He's an angel, a Greek Adonis. He stands by his much shorter friend, his Spanish friend, and I can see the sadness etched on their faces. It's as if it's permanently drawn on.

"He says he's fine. He told me that coming back gives him a sense of closure."

I recognize their voices very well. They're both angels, his best friends and companions. Why are they here? Why have they come to this dirty, awful place?

"Let's go! Come on, are you ready?"

My head turns, and my eyes drink in the tall, beautiful blond man, and my heart recognizes him. My friend...my confidant. What is he doing here as well?

"Yeah." Glancing over in my direction, he smiles. "This is for you."

"Guilty roads...to an endless love...there's no control...are you with me now...your every wish will be done...they tell me..."

My favorite verse. I had cried when I first heard the finished product. It was so moving, so haunting...it had touched my soul.

I realize this is a video shoot, which surprises me. The director yells, "Cut!" and the blond man who had smiled at me walks off the set...in my direction. He is such a beautiful man, so fair-skinned and pale-eyed. A clear contrast to my lover's erotic darkness. But the fair-skinned one and I have a connection, I sense, and I realize that I miss his company almost as much as I miss my lover.

He sits down next to me, seemingly unaware of me. Yet I see what he hides, for he wears it on his face like the angels do, and he longs to see me. I place my hand on top of his, praying he would feel it. If he could, he didn't show it.

How I wish he could feel it.

My words die on my tongue, and I instead sit with him in silence. What is up with this awful hat? He actually thinks it looks good? All this time and he has yet to improve his fashion sense.

All the times he and I shared are flying around in my mind like a tribe of bats. I couldn't remember him until I saw him, but I know we were close. I had met him first...yes, I had met him first, and we bonded quickly. We were always like mad-hatter children, getting into everything and causing trouble. He had introduced me to my wonderful, beautiful baby, and I would always be thankful for that.

"I miss you, Sweetie."

"I miss you too."

Silence falls. I am not used to this. After all this time, people have not said a word to me. It's as if I don't exist, as if I'm not a real person.

"Can you hear me?"

"I can hear you."

My heart soars as I realize he can indeed hear me. Someone hears my voice! But can he see me?

"I can't see you, though." As if he can read my mind.

I can't stop smiling, for I can feel my heart warming for the first time in what seems to be centuries. My voice can be heard. Maybe I really do exist, if someone can hear me.

"How are you, Sweetie?"

"I'm trying. We're trying." He turns and looks at me, his eyes full of tears. "What happened?"

I search my mind for memories that can tell me what happened. It is giving me a massive headache, but I remember nothing.

"I'm not sure what happened myself."

He is quiet, staring at the set he has just left. He wears his emotions on his face. I never notice that until now. I don't just see his emotions, I feel them. I feel everything inside of him, and now, all I feel is a deep, lingering sadness. Something is missing.

"It's you."

I turn my head and stare at him, my hair blowing in my face. He tenderly reaches forward and pulls it behind my shoulders. "You're gone, and it's all I feel."

"I'm not gone."

My words do not seem to register in his mind, for all he does is stare blankly. He is looking at his fellow angels, who are talking about how someone else was feeling.

"They don't see you."

It is not a question, but a simple statement. It has been so long since anyone has asked him how he feels. He is scared and lonely, and desperately needs someone to cling to.

"You were the one."

Damn, it's as if he can read my mind. He sees everything, hears my every thought. Is he like me? On a journey to a place he doesn't know? Is he going to join me on my journey, wherever it will take me? I have so many questions, and his presence only confuses me more.

"I don't have the answers myself. I'm just a mere mortal. But I know where you're going. I see it in my dreams, in my reflection...in your eyes."

What the hell? What is talking about? How can he see my journey and I can't? This isn't fair. How can a man see my fate when I can't?

Suddenly, he leans forward, and gently kisses my lips, so softly it's like he's kissing my soul. "Don't be afraid, baby. It won't be so sad. You'll get to where you're going."

He pulls away, staring into my eyes. Oh, what beautiful blue, blue eyes he has. He smiles at me, and his face is still so close, one of the tears running down his cheeks transfer over to my cheek.

"You'll be with him once again."

�2000 Eyes of Stone