The the knowledge of an impending ending.
“Nothing lasts forever,” she told me. “The meaning behind the word ‘nothing’ doesn’t exist,” I replied.
Neither less, both of us where right in the end.
The evening wind would have whirled through my hair if it would have been me. The smell of spices would have lightly flown through my lungs as I would have inhaled, if it would have been me. I would have felt the warmth of his hand intertwined in mine and the soft touch of his shoulder against mine as we would have watched into the horizon. I could have felt loved. I could have felt wanted. I could have felt everything, and all at once if it would have been me, next to him. But it wasn't. It never was. It was just my thoughts recalling memories which weren't mine to feel or be part of that consumed me. Because each moment, each memory and each thought which included him never included me by his side. It wasn't even my fault. It was just that I wasn't a choice worth of love for him. That's okay I guess. I don't force anyone to share an inch of a lifetime with me when they don't want you to be the one. In the end, the choice is made. So I dream, I imagine a life I could have had, feelings I could have felt but neither less never, ever did.