It's beautiful. With innocence and grace, it dances over the screen of my laptop or over the pages of my book. I want to reach out, to touch the magic that lures me in and takes me on a journey through my mind, soul, and obviously my heart. I do reach out, to flesh bone with words that can't be unsaid. It burns. Fire meets skin and sets it aflame, shining with the colours of a summer sunset. Your words are red and not the pink I expected. This is not a love story. It’s a story about a ghost that lives in my chest. It haunts me, day and night. It lives where you used to be, never letting me breathe without a reminder of the pain. Everything smells like you, like your favourite perfume. I suffer for what? Just to see you walk by without a second thought? This is not what the movies promised me. My heart has become a graveyard and I sit here, mourning the living and mourning a future that will never be.