Real/Fake
Nothing is real.
As I sit here typing this post, my heart is far away. My mind floats through the air, searching for him. It drifts through the memories…conversations we've had, places we've gone, times we spent together. My soul longs for those times again.
But none of it was real. None of those moments were anything more than friendship. Oh, I can dream all I want to, remember all I want – but the fact remains. It wasn't real. Nothing is real.
What do you do when you realise everything you've hungered for, is fake?
It exists only in your mind.
It doesn't exist.
It's not real.
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