It is our last day together at work. I'm washing dishes in the back while she sits behind me, distracting me the whole time. We are laughing at all the memories we made over the summer here. Then, she goes to her car and brings back a red acoustic guitar. I surprise her by playing it.
"I never knew you could play!" she says incredulously.
"I thought you would've figured it out by how many times I've mentioned it," I respond, with a smirk. Then, we both giggle 'till our sides hurt like we always do.
At the end of the night, we sit in the parking lot watching the stars. I'm playing the guitar while we watch the moon's light drift down onto the pavement. Neither one of us wants to leave. We know it's the last time we'll see each other, so we hang on for a while longer.
I tell her we're just ships passing in the night, that we had a good run, but we couldn't keep this up for much longer; whatever this was. It's not very comforting to either one of us. But, we try to let it be enough, knowing that after tonight we'll only be memories.