He is the thought behind the feeling, the swelling in my chest; the starlight in the evening, the yearning when I undress. He is the sound behind the sighing, the song of every bird; the tears in all my crying, the ache in every word.
“Some people don’t know what they have until it’s gone.” “But what about the ones who do know? The ones who never took a damn thing for granted? Who tried their hardest to hold on, yet could only look on helplessly while they lost the thing they loved the most.” “Isn’t it so much worse for them?”
I think you were always meant to know me a little better than anyone else. And our lives were fated to converge like some cosmic dance. I know there is a terrible distance between us. But our bodies are made of stardust, and we are hurtling through space and time, toward the most beautiful collision.