Distracted, agitated, alone. You'd think a strut would do it; hell no. I look around and see the pretty faces; pretty not because they're perfect, but pretty because they're smiling; inner smiles, shared laughter, security in a name. I look to the light; nothing ahead; look behind me; no shadow, no follow, no one. What is he looking for? What does she want? She wants to move. She wants to dance and have someone lift her, to travel and have someone drive her, to fall and have someone help her, to call and have someone answer her, to love and have someone love her. She wants to move. Follow, lead, follow, lead. Talk to me. Whare are you? Can you heard me now? Now? NOW? -click-. One more night, one more hang-up, one more dead-end. Who has directions to the interstate? I'm moving. So where do you turn when you know all the faces around you? Where do you look when you're sick of the scene? Who do you call when you want a familiar voice? I see...words. Words of meaning, meaning nothing, words of promise that'll soon by lying, words of prospect that will soon be ending. Where do you turn? Where does she dance when she wants to move in a crowded room? what catches your eye in a room full of individuals? What makes Her different, what makes Her worth it; worth everything? Adam IMed me and I have to think, after that night and then over a week without more than a hello, "what the hell???" Carrie-"Good bye Sex in the City"