And the whistling never stops.
The dreams don't either.
They're beautiful, yet extremely painful.
You tell me it was all a lie and that you just needed space to be yourself.
But you would tell me you loved me as much as I do.
And I would cry on your shoulder.
And you would make me smile and wipe my tears away.
The problem is that every time I have this dream, I eventually wake up.
And realize how much it hurts. Sometimes I'll laugh at the thought of us and our times together.
But sometimes I break down, and curl up into a ball in the shower.
