I pressed my cheek close to your chest as you intensely gathered me into your bosom last night.

You stroke my hair like you always did, tracing your fingers down my jaw, brushing my cheek along the way.

I searched for some sense of comfort, familiarity, empathy and most importantly… openness, security and consistency…

Alas, the black that blinded me, the darkness that veiled, all there was, is just a void.

You were never there.

And don’t ever, fucking promise things you can never deliver.