I met you last night. Must've been a dream, I suppose. We were walking under the moonlight, just you and me, like we used to at the beginning of time.
"I miss you," I told you.
Your brows knit together in confusion; the innocent look on your face under the glow of the street lamps a devastating paradox. "How can you miss me if I'm right here?"
I smiled at you. "If you knew the answer to that, then I wouldn't have to miss you at all."
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I woke up and mourned the living.
