"He called me a lover, walked me home every night.
Said his arms would stretch around buildings and bridges just to pull me in.
He called me at 5 am when his night terrors took over and he needed to hear a friendly voice.
My lips shook every day, my heart lifted every night at the sound of his lullaby tune.
He knew he needed me as much as I needed him, so he kept me near.
I stared at strange city lights to feel like he was watching with me, pointing out the brightest buildings and the prettiest skyscrapers.
He told me things that made me feel impure in a sacred way.
His eyes had a large, doe look to them, so innocently placed upon a walking tragedy.
As if sending an apology note after a million bullet holes.
His favorite songs became mine as I saw his life tangled in the lyrics of his playlists, tangling myself in them to reach him.
It was gracious. It was fulfilling. It was majestic.
But tonight at 1 am, in an unfamiliar city, I long to feel his familiar touch on my unfamiliar skin.
Losing you was a romance of its own."