Vapor.

Like vapors in the air, we feel each other's coldness but not our warmth. We are succumbed to melancholy and never buoyant. Flood me a river of tears or dry me with your deserted love but don't leave me to vapor, barely indecisive to evaporate or meltdown. Subtle but never tangible. Lighthearted but never warm. Mediocre. This is all I know and as much as I hated it, I continued to go waiting for all the remaining vapor in me to pass away and never again will ever become a vapor in your passing wind of love.