He tries his best to ignore the beads of water forming on his eyelashes as he settles on a park bench. He stares blankly across an empty field lost in a memory from years back. Hand in hand two phantoms walked, barley visible as water blanketed them. He listened in as they spoke about the butterflies forming in their stomachs. Laughing uncontrollably every now and then, and about absolutely nothing. Question she says, " you think I'm beautiful?". I think your beyond beautiful he lipped without a single sound. Following the phantom's dialogue word for word. As the rain picked up, he snapped out of the moment; unfulfilled. At least I had it once he said, at least I know what it feels like.