Last night

He was playing the guitar, silently humming to his music as I sat down beside him on the bed, his voice is that of an angel's and his face is just beautiful. When he finished with the song, he placed his guitar on the floor and looked at me with his bright brown eyes through his round glasses.

"I can't believe this man is mine", I said to myself as he placed his hand on my cheek and gently kissed me on the lips.

"I love you, John", I told him, and he smiled his warm smile that never fails to make me flush, and said, "I love you, too".

And we lay there in bed wrapped in each others' arms in peace, getting more love than we deserve while the world outside is at war and in dire need of hope.

Then I woke up from my dream, it's a Wednesday and apparently my unconscious is a bitch. John is dead, Tin. John is dead.