Sunrise over the library

It was cold, cold and dark and well, fucking cold. But she promised she would meet me here so here I stood the smell of dew in the early spring air, the slight wind in my face as I watched the front of the Wasatch for a sign of the ascension of the sun. She had to show up, she just had to. It had been a year since we had made the promise and now, I had finally had shown up, here on the roof of the Library waiting for the sun to rise in my dreams , now the question was where was she. Maybe she forgot, maybe she was asleep somewhere else, maybe just maybe she had given up on me figuring that no matter what I would never show, I would never make it. The smell of roses filled the cold wet air, somewhere there was a sprinkler going off, and down on the street people were beginning to fill the road people working their way to death before the rising of the sun. It was supposed to be our thing, A something we could both could do. In dreams we meet on the roof of the Library, to watch the sunrise. Here am I where are you?