Make believe

You touched me without feeling my skin, your childhood stories still live inside my brain tucked away so tightly. Just when I am on the brink of sleep, they break the surface and pull me under, staining my dreams with bitter sweet memories. 

I see you smiling with her, laughing with her, living out our life with her. I wonder if she knows about us, well, me. I wonder if she knows how we spent many nights whispering about our make-believe. Does she know how many times you sang my favourite songs to help me sleep? Does she narrate through all the rom-coms like I do? Does she love you the way I would have liked to?