I had a dream once.
It was quite honest.

We sat outside by the patio, each of us with a cup of coffee at hand, wearing our glasses and the wind gently stroking our skin. You had on what I like to think was my favourite outfit on you: a shirt I’d worn the day before and short shorts that exquisitely showed your thighs off.
You caught me staring at you, wondering why I looked at you as though the sun rose and set at your command. I’d always told you if you willed it, the chances of it happening were never not impossible. You rested your head on my shoulder and I could sense the worry in the manner you sighed. Kissing your forehead, your hand clutched onto my forearm for dear life and as you look up to me, it all seems to fade away. We never speak of what was bothering you. You always said we don’t have to.

You look at me the way people would marvel at Jesus if he came back a little too early; with admiration, wholehearted love and unwavering faith. You always mentioned that I was your saving grace, a prayer you loved waking up to and your favourite song to bid the night away with. You never faulted in not reminding me that you wanted me in your space. Leaping into my arms whilst wrapping your legs around my torso, stretching out your hand to any part of my body you could hold onto whenever we sat apart and always ending up on my chest when you’d wake every morning. We always knew that this was never by chance, but it was never mundane. We’d turn grocery shopping, movie nights and even watching a series on Netflix into something of an adventure. You never held back, neither did I and we were selfless in how we loved each other, every day.

But we never spoke of what bothered you that one morning, that one afternoon and all those other nights. Only you knew.
Time withered and the look your eyes did too until one fateful day, I was no longer a prayer. I no longer came home to arms and legs that turned me into stuffing. You had left, never to come back. I only had recollections, pictures and the sound of your laugh bouncing off my walls to remind me of the life that once lived here.