like you actually believed it was real.

My feet are cold, the wet ground soaks through my socks and my hair is matted down by the rain.

I wish you were here. I wish you were there. I wish you were anywhere, somewhere with me.

Just with me. Together. Side by side, hand in hand. But of course you’re not and you never will be.

My side is bare and my hand is empty. Empty and cold, just like this sad little park I’m standing in.

_______________________________________________