I keep hoping this is a bad dream. I want to believe that I will wake up from it to find you next to me. That would mean you wouldn’t have left me. My heart would no longer ache to see your face when I wake. You’d tell me you loved me and you were meant for me. You’d calm my fears and tell me how we’d get through this, together.
But that is just a dream in this cruel reality. I cling my dream holding on to an imaginary hope. The false hope is what gets me through every day without you. That feeling I hold on to quiets the loudness of reality and brings me back to the comfort of the love we once shared. I’d give anything to have it back, and I would wait an eternity to wake from this nightmare, as long I knew I would wake up from it next to you.
I cannot face the truth. I refuse to believe this new world I’ve found myself alone in. The hope is what I will hold on to as long as possible. Without my hope, it means everything I’ve believed in has been a lie. That… Cannot be my new reality.
I’ll spend every night wishing on stars hoping this isn’t real until there are no more stars to wish upon. Please don’t let me run out of stars…