#028 Letter to Deimos

My gentle sunset,

I wonder: When did we stop being us?

You were the waves to my beach; always reaching, always retreating, back and forth and back and forth. Each time you returned, your excuses hurt more; they were sand grating against the shore.

When I asked you to stay with me forever, your answer was dismissal. "Okay" is an empty promise, do you know that? And so my heart remains incomplete, a puzzle piece the size of you missing and missing you. Oh, you hurt me so, my night in shining armour.

It is better this way,

your sunrise.