“Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion” ~ Arthur Koestler
His face was etched in my dream,
and it seemed like he waited for me.
Every night as I drifted into sleep,
he was there, eager for me to be in his realm.
His hand would reach for mine
and we would lose ourselves in a world
where time stood still,
where anything was possible,
where we could be together.
He was my forever.
But my forever changed,
seconds were altered,
and what once seemed like reality
slowly devolved into fantasy once again.
Where once he was my future,
he quickly became my past.
And in my last dream,
there was no hand to hold my hand.
His smile no longer reflected mine,
and my illusion of always