There are nightmares I don’t want to wake up from. In these nightmares, you’re still in my life. You haven’t left. We still kiss upon meeting, and you still laugh in that musical way you always used to. Every time, it’s something different we used to do. Maybe we go to different museums even though I always consider you the most captivating piece of art. Or maybe we’re watching Netflix and actually chilling. Or maybe we’re just holding each other in silence because the world is too loud. No matter what, it’s always good, great even. So why would I call these dreams nightmares? Because I always wake up not with a cold sweat, but with an intense longing and tears that taste like the last kiss we shared. My hands always reach out for you but you’re not there. Instead, I’m always greeted by the familiar empty space in my bed. Every time, I’m forced to remember exactly how things used to be, just to come back to reality where it’s almost like we never met. And to this day, I can’t say I wish we never did.
— Nightmares // Maxwell Diawuoh, Once A Day (318/366)