The day you made me read to you. We sat there, staring off at something neither of us would ever know. You grabbed my hand and we sat there in silence as we let the beauty of the moment wash over us. I laughed as you twirled a piece of my hair around your finger gently caressing your hand down my cheek as you stared into my eyes; each of us dreading what was to come. I slowly stood up pulling my hand from yours even as you tried to cling to me tighter. I walked further away from you and it was almost as if I could feel the distance growing between us. You reached for me trying to keep us together, trying to close the growing distance. The weight of your hand on my shoulder comforts me, and brings a soft smile across my lips. I shake your hand off though, feeling you stiffen and draw away. I shiver at the coldness you now radiate, a wall building between us, each brick stamped with a piece of your hate. Our love once an endless flow now cracked with tension and strained has nowhere left go. The last step I take breaks the bond we once had and now the wind swirls around me taking me back to the day I once read.