For the other side is not visible.

A slurpee top glitters into view in front of you. It's rolling on the road, carried along by the slipstreams and buffeting tires of the cars. You catch up to it at the same moment the latest group of cars to pass over the slurpee top disperses, and now the avenue is quiet but for you and it. Now you're matching paces, you on the sidewalk, the slurpee top on the road, and the glittering streetlights reflected in the slurpee top are all you have for company. You glance down at it for an instant. A shy hello, possibly murmured, possibly implied by your look; you do not mean to impose, and there is no where else to walk, but your brief concern is passing as the friendly blinking lights of the slurpee top assure you there's no trouble at all and you're quite welcome to join it for a walk tonight. Now you are friends, and now you are no longer walking beside the slurpee top, you are walking with the slurpee top. But soon the slurpee top's momentum wanes, and it begins to slow down. Then it stops. You look back as you realise. You would like to wait for it but you can't, you have places to go and people to see and things to do. Soon the next group of cars comes whish-hissing past, and now the slurpee top is trying to catch up to you, waving and calling out, but like you said; you have places to see and people to meet and things to be. Now you walk on without it, look away the way that a movie actor looks away when they leave a loved one, ahead, but also at an angle towards the camera, (what, you didn't know you were on camera?) angsty and milking it. Later you will see something similar to what you are reading now, and you will deny that this is an accurate metaphoric portrayal of your relationships. But denial is fleeting.