She met a man on a night out. They got on. They saw each other a lot. He became distant. She knew she was losing him, though her feelings for him grew stronger every day. She knew he was the one. The last night she saw him he'd been round her house and they'd talked. He didn't say anything that led her to believe he was about to walk away yet as he kissed her goodbye and walked up the steps out of the front gate, she looked at the porch light and said she'd leave it switched on until he returned. It could have been a candle or the moonlight, but this porch light represented everything she felt - a connection across time - that he wouldn't be back.
She didn't hear from him for a few days and when he finally did get in touch, he was distant, morose and apologetic. The light still burned - outside and in. He never really broke up with her, he just stopped calling. She thought of going to see him, surprising him - she thought of ringing to ask what he was thinking. She left the light on in case he returned. For him to find his way back to her.
She never saw him again and she's married now to another man - she lives in a different country - she's changed her name - she's had another child to another man - she's still crazy - she's just as happy as she ever was.
But that light still burns. And it will burn on forever.
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