I'd like to tell her that I'm lonely and that I'm ready to commit.
I'd like to tell her that I love her and that I'll always be there for her.
I'd like to tell her that I'm ambitious and that I'm already as successful as I'll ever need to be.
I'd like to tell her that I'll live forever and so will she, as long as we have each other.
I'd like to tell her about the stars and the moon and the day and the night and I'd like to tell her about my past.
I'd like to tell her that the future is brighter than ever, that I can see tomorrow through a multi-colored prism when I look into her eyes.
I'd like to hold her in my arms and caress the small of her back while her belly brushes against mine in the cool night air.
I'd like to smell the roses I put in her hair and hold her hand in a dark movie theater.
I'd like to tell her what I've learned from her and teach her things she's never known.
I'd like to share life (and death) with her and make new life.
I'd like to tell her a joke and hear her laugh brightly.
I'd like to cradle her in my arms as she cries over the little things that make her happy and tell her that the world is hers, what little of it I can offer.
But she doesn't exist. She is nowhere to be found. And it's finally turning to Spring.
Another year alone. And a war is coming.