If it were up to me, you would never become acquainted with lonely. You would never learn the way the chill wraps around your bones and whispers that you will never know what it means to be warm. Where the fires of love and passion grow into a distant hallucination. If it were up to me, I’d hold you until eternity caved in on us both and we took the galaxies with us into the dark and cold, but at least we could keep each other wrapped in arms of hope. I would never leave you lonely if it were up to me.