Eternal darkness

He opened the door going outside. The light spilled out as far as it could stretch, like fog rolling across the ground. The air was cold, enough to have a bite as you inhaled, chilling one to the core with that first breath.
He stepped outside, letting the door close behind him. With a sharp bang, the door closed. The darkness was absolute. The pitch black that only the deep night could bring. The stars glowed bright above, with the moon absent.
"It must be a new moon", he thought.
His footsteps crunched loud in the still of the night as he walked away from the building. The music was overwhelming, but out here the silence prevailed. He listened to his footsteps as he wandered away from the noise. Crunch, crunch, crunch. The sound was unmistakable. Ominous, yet satisfying. He needed to breathe.
Without warning, his footsteps lost their sound. He had wandered off into the grass. Now, every step came silently. He stopped after a few feet, looking around. "Here is good," he thought, unable to see anything that was around. He was enveloped in the darkness, like a cloak covering his body. He pulled his joint from his pocket and struck his lighter. The flame momentarily lit the surrounding area, enough to see that he was surrounded by grass, but not enough to make out more than a few steps.
As he pulled on the joint, inhaling the smoke, he thought about why he was out here, alone. The party was raging back inside, he should have been having a blast, living it up. He should have been laughing with his friends and enjoying the music. He should have been shooting shots and hitting on women. Should have been....
The sweet smell of pot formed a cloud around him. He basked in the smell.
The door opened, spilling light into the surrounding dark. It closed ominously with a loud thud. A few seconds passed, and then a female's voice called out, "Hank, I know you are out there. Hell, I can smell you."
"Damn," he thought, "I just had to smoke some pot."
The footsteps came through the silence, the gravel crunching, heralding her approach. Hank pulled deep on his doobie. A little too deep, because he started coughing and hacking, giving himself away. The footsteps faded into a rustle of someone walking through the grass. The footsteps stopped next to him.
"Lemme hit that." she said.
Hank passed her the joint, still coughing. She hit it slowly, saying nothing. After a few puffs, she handed it back. With a question. "Why are you out here?"
Hank pulled on the joint, thinking. How to say what he needed to say, Hank wasn't sure.
Exhaling, he decided on the truth. "I can't stop thinking about her. She stole my heart, and I can't stop loving her. It's never going to end is it?"
Hank handed her the joint. It was getting to the end. She hit it hard, thinking. "No," she exhaled, "It's not. So what are you going to do about it?"
 Hank was silent for a moment, searching for the answer.
"I have no idea." came his response. "I have no idea."