I dreamed of you.
Your voice, an echo through my head.
I talk to you, and it was awkward and real. So real. So bittersweet.
And I blame cold medications and high fever.
I touch you, my mind remembers your rough palms.
It creates the illusion of reality, the tingle afterwards.
I call your name, but it came out wrong.
I want you, but the name was for another.
You didn't notice, and I thought you knew.
There was another. Was.
I fix it. I wanted to fix it. I tried again. And I was pained when I said it right.
It has been so long.
I remember reaching out for you.
I remember you say that you called me. I remember you say you're travelling, and never coming back.
I wake up confused and hurt. All over again.
A scar that is still so raw.
I ache, ache and ache.
I blame my mind. Showing me what I work so hard to deny.
Showing me that I still love you.