remember that night we sat under the willow, branches whispering around us? we told each other all the secrets and stroked all the fears. you held my hand and swore you wouldn't stop until our dreams became true. then we fell asleep in each other's arms.
i miss that night and i miss you. the secrets are out, the fears are gone, but the dreams are still dreams. your hand is holding someone else's hand and you arms are hugging someone else. you are kissing someone else's lips and taming someone else's wildness.
i passed by that willow a couple of days ago. it grew almost twice, but it still is as thick and concealing as it used to be. under it may very well still whisper the younger versions of ourselves, naively swearing love to each other. in a paralel reality we are still together, still dreaming. still in love. only the willow can take us there. reality strikes too hard outside its crown.
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