day two hundred and eighty-nine

i had another dream about you last night.

- it was a lot like the rest.

i wanted to hold your hand, but i was holding someone else’s

and instead of looking at him, i couldn’t stop looking at you.

he didn’t notice

but you did.

i let go

and i touched your hand

we lingered there for a moment

and my heart began to ache.

i am sitting here writing this

and i want to cry because

your hand felt exactly the way i remembered it

- rough and warm

- ridiculously, stupidly, amazingly big

- calloused, strong

- and mine.

but it wasn’t mine, not really.

because the touch

while seeming to last for eternity

truly only lasted a single moment.

and then you walked away.

and it felt like my fault.

(which, according to my subconscious, it is.)

i know this one is just like the rest

a tally on the wall

a penny in the jar

a drop in the ocean

but then

why does my heart still ache?