38.

You, my love, weren't real.

You were nothing, but a fragment of my imagination.

My suspicions were proven right when you began shimmering ethereally, flickering in and out of existence, like a radio with bad connection.

You looked at me with anguish and dejection, as if second-guessing yourself, wondering what I would do without you. I was wondering the same thing.

But I nodded my head slightly.

I had often thought of you as an angel, who had saved my life. Who would've thought that that was precisely what you were?

An angel.

You continued flickering, but much faster. You held my gaze till the last second, reminding me of all the good times, of all the good things that you had taught me. 'Remember.'

And then you were gone.

Forever.

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