In his dreams Raymond begged. He said. “Please, please, please. Love me.”

It never amounted to anything.

It didn’t achieve what he wanted.

You still left him to stitch the wounded fractions of what was left of his soul. Raymond still has scars on his skin from where the love seeped in. It’s not your fault, he should’ve been more careful with where he put his heart.

Your breakup was a cause of different interests and a growing canyon between a healthy intimate relationship.

Loving you was great. It was the leaving that was unprecedented.

But he’s alive. Unfortunately he’s still as pathetic of a romantic as he was yesterday, when Raymond peeps through the window of his house and sees you at his doorstep, he opens his home to you, lord knows you still hold his heart.

“I’m guessing you weren’t conventionally in the neighborhood and decided to stop by just to say hello?” Ray offers idly already pouring you a drink, you’re favorite, in the kitchen, if not to avoid confrontation and being able to do something with his hands.

He looks up to you, breath catching, god you’re beautiful…he clears his throat. “So why are you here?” Ray looks back to his drinks casually.