His reoccurring dream came to life tonight.

The one where he's standing on the beach, sun already set and it's getting darker. He's rehearsed this in his head since he was broken up with, the moment where he sees her figure walking along the shore, red coat, vibrant against the dull back drop of the world around you.

He runs up to her, the person with the same figure as his Jordana and grabs your attention. His body thrumming with anticipation, but when you turn around, your face is nothing like hers and his blood turns cold.

Because this isn't a movie, the script in his head is useless and you are not Jordana.

You asked the basic question as someone who was approached by a stranger, Do I know you? And he shook his head with a heavy heart. "N-No, no, you don't know me at all.." with his mouth dry, he took a step back. "Sorry," he apologized.