So lie to me tonight and pretend 'til the morning light

And imagine that you are mine

'Cause when the sun will rise with the truth coming out your eyes

We'll be good in another life

- Bastille, Another place

This is for the nights I have craved your touch. For the moments my heart whispered your name in the dark. For the regret that lingers after a drunken call. For the ache, when your silence answers my words. For the nights I let my fragile masculinity take a backseat and I shed a tear for every time I thought this could work—I still believe it can.

We met in chaos. You were looking beyond me as I was focused on you. The chaos from you believing I was not worth the risk. In my head, there were zero risks involved.

I crave you like a junkie way past the midnight hour. I have chased and caught many dreams, but you remain the one just beyond my grasp. It bothers me that what I see at night in my sleep contrasts with what happens during the day.

In a room full of art, I would still stare at you.

My best friend teases me about you all the time.

Someday it is going to fade. I wonder if in another place and another time we could have been something.

I doubt if it keeps you awake at all because it gives me sleepless nights. I like you to the point of delirium. I like you and I don’t know how not to. It is always you in my mind. Always you in my mind. Always you, making my heart stumble—racing and stopping in the same breath. I lack the words to describe the feeling.

So tell me, my beau, if fate had written us differently, what could we have been? Would we have been a masterpiece—or just another unfinished sketch?