Through his peripheral vision he catches a glimpse of them, they appear elated and astute as if their banter is automatic rather than feigned as in the rest of the commonwealth. Filling every inch of the room, each one of them trenchant and unique onto themselves but as a group they share years of unmistakable friendship that bond them to one another. He wants to share in their contentment, but can't dispel the feeling that he doesn't belong here. He doesn't want to be alone, but the idea of her tires him infinitely. He leaves them with a impromptu arduous explanation for his expedient departure. He grabs his jacket and begins down the sidewalk. 

The moonlight reflected by the snow makes him appear pale in it's glow, the higher he lifts his head to gaze at its' semblance the thinner the air feels in his lungs. In some ways he envies the cold; it never misleads you in regard to it's true nature, it is always harsh and abrasive never deviating. He thinks to himself "If I were like that she might still be here." He reaches a street sign one less block to his destination, he takes a deep numbing breath and continues on his way. With each step he conceptualizes more and more: In a perfect world the necklace would be a symbol of happiness and ceaseless devotion; even if he can't get her back he will always be trying, he will still keep it with him. He thinks about the time they met; humming the song that was playing at the party when he saw her. Remembering the coyness she had when she asked him to walk her home brought a smirk to his face; even though she lived next door he would have walked for hours just to listen to her speak. A hapless expression returned to his visage as if  synonymous with reflections about her. He obscured these feelings as he had many times before and continued on his journey.

This is a a short story I just wrote cause I couldn't sleep; thanks for reading.