It’s not real

Rubble and destruction are all that remains of what was a thriving metropolitan area. The windows are blown out from the few buildings left standing. Trains wrap around the car-less city streets in an unorganized fashion but they are silent. There are people but their presence is only physical. They move as if the city was never destroyed but their souls are gone.

I am not unsettled by the eery environment, nor the roaming ghosts, nor the end as this seems to be. I feel full with purpose. unbothered by the lifeless shells. I am alive and my soul is full, with him by my side.

My love and I wander the abandoned city boundlessly. The light is golden from a suns rays beaming through the smoggy sky. We sit on the train tracks. I see him, glowing with warmth amidst an otherwise grey world. I feel not an ache, nor sore, nor negative thought. I am happy in the truest sense of this word’s meaning.

Hunger, thirst, and desire of any sort are all satiated by the most powerful force, true love.

I never want to wake up.

But I do, and here I am, awake. In the bustling city. It is cold and windy. I'm achy and fatigued. Though it seems as though there is life and energy crawling in every corner, I feel empty. I’m a shell. Walking and moving, with the absence of a soul. I don’t exist.

I long to return to the desolate city. in this place I am alive, with him by my side, even if it’s only in a dream.

My greatest fear is my reality. A world without him.