This Is How We Exist

What if you never had to leave?
What if you lived here?
What if I lived there?
This is how we exist.
Questions without answers.
Curiousity.
An unfinished story.
This is how we exist.
What if we meet again?
Will it be like it was before?
Will that flame last another night?
This is how we exist.
A fire so strong it survived a thousand storms.
Fuelled by our memories.
Our thoughts feed like gasoline.
Late night phone calls.
Reminiscing.
This is how we exist.
What is this thing we feel so strongly?
This thing we cannot let go of?
It can’t been seen.
It can’t be touched.
What are we?
This is how we exist.
I wrote the ending to our story over a thousand times.
Each time it ended with us.
Together.
In my head.
This is how we exist.
Skin I have not touched.
Lips I have not tasted.
Beds I have not woken up in.
All because I go to bed with our night.
And wake up with hope.
That one day we will exist.
This is how we exist.
I’ve kept us alive.
In turn I have missed so much.
Real people.
Real connections.
Skin.
Lips.
Bedrooms.
This is how we exist.
And now I need something real.
I need to see it.
I need to touch it.
I can no longer be in love with a memory.
My future can no longer be hope.
This is how I exist.
By letting you go.