There was a time not long ago when nothing came to my mind before going to bed, I didn’t remember to dream that much, possibly because you were a dream. You at my side slowly breathing, slowly moving, slowly resting.
Those days were a dream indeed, full of stories, full of light but also full of conflicts, and dichotomies. There was some dark around us, impossible to tell for the outside world, was our story, were our differences. Was me being coward, were you being the most hurt one.
I regret days, decisions, times, you looking for honesty and I hiding the truth, when everything came out, was painful, for you to know and for me to talk. What curious act honesty is, supposedly easier to do but so hard to accomplish, especially with my background.
The day came, in mid-January during the afternoon you took a flight back to your homeland, overseas. With all my promises broken, with all driven stack, with all hope punish, with the fear of never get you back.