Tell Me I Didn't Imagine It

Tell me I didn't imagine it. Tell me it's not a fragment of my imagination.

Tell me I didn't imagine the intimacy we once shared, the playfulness and light and wonder when we would walk next to each other, that happy time we were the best and closest of friends, and I would catch the look in your eyes and feel the warmth inside spread all over me because I knew you cared.

Tell me that I'm not dreaming. That once, you did care for me and you were there when I needed you, and even after we parted ways, you were still there to hold my hand in those times of need. That once, you were there to catch me when I fell, and I was never afraid to fall because of that.

Tell me it's all in my mind, that I'm imagining this barrier between us, that I'm fabricating this fear that we're drifting apart and things are no longer the same between us as they once were. That conversation between us has become superficial, threads of surface thought and nothing more of substance.

Tell me it's not a fragment of my imagination that you once loved me, that I didn't imagine those promises you and I made to maintain our friendship and that we would remain there for each other. Or perhaps it was just me who hoped that you would remain there for me.

Tell me what I need to hear, because I'm splintering apart at the most unexpected of moments, and I don't think I can take any more pain.

I've already lost my love. Please tell me I haven't lost my friend.