I spend my days reminding myself that you don't care. The stark reality of your absence echoes in my heart, reverberating through the corridors of my mind, a constant reminder of our fragmented past. I try to convince myself that your indifference is a blessing, as it shields me from the pain of shattered expectations. Yet, as the sun dips below the horizon, my thoughts drift into the depths of the night, and I find solace in the twisted comfort of dreaming that you still do.

In the confines of my slumber, our love thrives, resurrecting its vibrancy in hues of wistful nostalgia. My dreams become a fabric adorned with fragments of laughter, stolen kisses, and the tender whisper of your name against my lips. Time, that relentless arbiter of wounds, dissolves into nothingness, and I am transported to a realm where your touch still electrifies my every fiber. In this ethereal domain, I dream of elaborate dance floors where our bodies sway to the rhythm of our ardor, igniting a fire within our souls that refuses to be extinguished.

Here, in the realm of dreams, your eyes still hold the same velvet warmth that ensnared me from the beginning. They search my very essence, each gaze a longing that silently pleads for reconciliation. The nights become a sanctuary where I can observe our love evolve, surpassing the boundaries of reality...