What "Real" Meant

"We felt compassion, and the compassion tricked us" and we watched it change. And no one saw it move. And none of us knew, but suddenly the world was different and devoid of familiar form. And nothing fit. And every void was somehow deeper with ragged, awkward edges. It made me begin to wonder if all the solidarity had been a lie. I wondered if there were ever stability or the ground. I remembered a time that made more sense, but I couldn't remember the sense. I felt foolish and afraid. My head started spinning. I looked away from my feet. I looked up and to the side. I felt your absence, and that absence filled my chest. And I forgot the sounds you used to make and how familiar you used to feel. You had finally turned to memory, and maybe even to myth. That made me wonder if you had ever been real, and how I would justify that or even know what real meant.