When the music played and he listened,
When the words came to him and he wrote,
There were moments when he wanted to reach out into the darkness,
And feel a familiar stranger.
Write them a story about how he missed them and wanted them to return.

It was in these moments that he realized,
That, if he had to write for someone to see his significance,
Write so his absence would be felt,
Then that individual he was writing too was not worth it.
Because if they mattered they would be there.

He hated how he missed certain moments,
And often recreate them in his mind.
It was here that she told him and made him realize,
That he missed the moment he had created,
And not the individual he created it with

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