some nights are too hard to handle,
when you’re in bed,
wanting to hold his hand and
counting the seconds before you
you picture yourself
sitting at a cafe, waiting,
as he comes and hands you the hot chocolate he paid for,
or early grey tea, or whatever it may be.
one day, he’ll say the words
i love you,
and you’ll know he meant it,
and you’ll know you feel that too,
and you’ll know he is yours,
and you are his.
i blinked, and
and he just wasn’t there. there wasn’t a he to look forward to.
he ceased to exist.