come with me, my love.

An overwhelming sense of loneliness. I tried to recall all the number's I've tried to fall in love with. Felt nothing but disgust because none of them have amounted to anything. Only a brief memory, a side-way smile and a dingy hollowness. Hollowness? The state of being empty. 

I remember the thrill of receiving your first message. Your name is beautiful. I've told you before. I wanted to talk to you forever. You were real. I haven't had a full conversation with someone eloquent in a long time and you impressed me with your big dreams. You gave up too quickly. Forget gender equality, you should have tried harder. But I get it, I wasn't worth fighting for. Point taken. Next.

Fading gradually from lucidity, I hear you tell me about the sea. You missed the smell of the sea. I fall silent. What you said was perfect, the conversation did not need another word. A movie line. That was a line in a song, something I would've said myself. Something I feel in my gut, in my inner being - I always miss the sea. Always. That waiting for the sunrise, falling asleep to the crashing waves and chilly, salty sea breeze, that's a scene I'm keeping in my brain. Not because of you, but because of the water. If I could romance the sea, I would. I would love it forever till it engulfed me, suffocated me. Till it loved me in return.

.