so many picture perfect moments


Game Aesthetics: Rochelle (Left 4 Dead 2)

It is when I’m tired, just falling asleep, really, that I ache for you the most.
I’m reminded of all of our late nights in front of brightly lit screens, talking about nothing, for the sake of absorbing everything.
Each feeding some sort of instinctual addiction for the other that our souls possessed, but never got around to admitting.
It’s when I’m tired that I picture your hands in my hair as I doze against your chest, not quite lucid, not really there.
I picture your expert fingers tracing constellations across my skin, lulling me into tranquility, calming my anxiety.
I picture your knowing smirk as I drift toward dreamland without kissing you goodnight, yet again.
I picture so many perfect moments that have never actually occurred, but I’ve thought of them so often that they might as well be real, if at least in my memory.
It’s nice, in this haze right before sleep consumes me, because here, it’s hard to be sure that they aren’t reality. It is here that I meet you again every evening.
If I can’t have you next to me, if I can’t even have your name still dancing across these brightly lit screens, then honestly, this is probably the next best thing.
Pretending. Pretending that you’re still hung up on me, just as my eyes close, just as my breathing slows.
And hoping, fervently, that you’re pretending, though so far away, right along with me.
Maybe that way, just maybe, we’re guaranteed our happy ending.