Complex plastic car pieces scatter the tabletop, some not even popping out of their flimsy plastic container. Only the wheels and axis hug onto each other as the rest of the disassembled car sits in a clutter of chaos waiting to be put together. But even as they beg to embrace each other, I continue to stare on, keeping them there away. One-half of an exhaust pipe stares first at its other half then toward me. I tell them they can't be together, he has to be here, he has to be here to help. I can't do this alone so they have to continue to be broken until he comes back. A pit in my stomach aches, but I persist. Although, tinges of piercing pain form in the corners of my eyes, leaving droplets to fall. Although swiftly swallowed up from the course material of my shirt.