Eunoia • Book Two

The Boy With Blonde Hair

Every night, I pray.

I pray for a next day; I pray for tomorrow.

I pray for all good things, I pray for me, and I pray for you.

I pray for good dreams, the desired ones- the ones that includes you.

I pray that I fully get to see your eyes- the ones that love swims in, the ones that promised to protect me. I pray that I get to be in your warm embrace, your softly caring touch. I pray that I feel your alluring presence, the dominance overtakes at first, but the adoration and love overpowered eventually. 

Is it possible to get attached to someone you dreamt about?

Is it possible to get attached to a mere fragment of your imagination?

Someone who might not exist in this world of chaos, someone who might. Someone who could be so close yet so far. Someone who could bring both heaven and hell at my feet. Someone who could be dangerous yet safe to be with, all at the same time?

And yet, be it imagination, I earn for some sort of connection. A glimpse, a touch- even the mere presence of yours, I pray for; I earn for. I don't know how, what or why this happened, why I feel like this, but I want to meet you again, blondie.

Why meet me once and just disappear as if it were just a hallucination?

I felt it, it was real in the world of dreams; I just know it.

The boy with blonde hair who walks like the devil but is an angel, who are you?