Dear Mekh,
I know that there will be many things that I will never get to do with you, many places that I will never get to enjoy with you holding my hand, and many memories which I will never get to create with you. But should this thought stop me from imagining? Imagination is infinite, unlike the amount of time I have with you. Let me float in this infinity of thoughts and create a fabric of my own where my world would reside.

I imagine the ice-cream cone we will share, on a particularly sunny day when you will squint your eyes in the sun. I imagine the glass of red wine we will sip, stranded between the open sea and the lush green hill. I also imagine the sight of you falling asleep, clutching your half-read book which I will gingerly place on the nightstand. Sometimes I get carried away and leave the ground, but then I have to hold on to a parachute and return back to where I belong.

Sometimes in the middle of the night, I hear the soft rustle of your clothes, the tender moan you let out in your sleep, and the deep breaths that you take after the moan. I wake up and look beside me, I imagine you there and gently rub your head, careful not to wake you up. A sweet kiss on your eyes lull me into sleep, and I wake up the next day to find you gone. Sometimes the mind tricks me, but I sober up in the morning and realize what I am missing.

I love you Mekh.



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