Behind the scenes

A lot about us feels like a movie:

Our fingers intertwined in the back seat of a tired taxi driver's car, covered by the blackness of the night. Our knees touching, sitting cross-legged on the cold kitchen floor watching the moonlight glitter against your skin. Me, watching you playing the theme tune of my favourite film on your guitar. Our finger-tracing of short stories against each others skin. Our whispered 3am conversations whilst I listen to your heart dancing beneath your chest. Our legs entwined, getting lost amongst the the sea of your bed. Our waking, and racing to catch the sunrise over our little town. Me, spinning you in the dewy morning air, your legs dangling against the teacup-bowl at the childs-play area. Me, watching your eyes light up from the passenger side as we make our way through your favourite mcdonalds drive thru.

But alot of it still feels like i'm not really there. 

All these moments of movie-magic with you, and yet my mind still wanders back to the the boy who broke my heart fifteen months, two weeks and nine days ago and how you’ll never be him.