Reality is a lovely plave, but I wouldnt want to live there.

You know when you have a dream, an amazing dream, and you're so sure that it's real that when you wake up, just for a second, you're in pure happiness. Then as the dream starts replaying in your mind, you realise it was, in fact, just that. A dream. You realise that nothing in the dream actually happened, and that you're going to have to live out another day without any of the events in the dream actually occurring. And it doesn't matter how far you reach out to them, that one you miss won't come back, that person doesn't love you and they're not fucking sorry for whatever they did. You can try to go back to sleep, and relive what will only upset you again later, but you know that one day you are going to have to face reality. It's painful and frightening, and you feel weak for crying over a fucking dream. An amazing dream. A dream that, just for a second, had you in pure happiness.

I miss you. I miss your broad grin and your long eyelashes. I miss the feeling of your strong arms around my tiny waist. I miss your stupid jokes and my lazy comebacks. I miss the scars on your body, whether they be accidental or purposely put. I miss that feeling of comfort and security that I've only ever felt around you. I miss watching emotional films and crying together. I miss falling asleep talking to you on the phone. I miss the way your eyes sparkled and your lips curled when you held me. I miss the way you'd tell me you loved me, and for the first time in my life I believed that I could be loved, I loved you too.

I miss you, more than you could imagine. More than you could ever fucking dream of...but you don't. You don't dream of me. You don't care for me the way I care for you. You don't miss me the way I miss you. You don't love me, not anymore, not the way I still fucking love you.

When you left it was like a thousand daggers piercing though my stomach, my neck, my heart. I knew then there wasn't anything I could do to keep you. There wasn't anything I could to except let the emotions drown in my own blood and tears. I'm disappointed, I'm angry, but most of all I feel this overwhelming sense of grief. I lost someone dear to me, and it doesn't matter how much I hate what you, or what I, did, it doesn't matter how much I hate what our relationship morphed into because I'll always love you more.

Whenever were forced to face eachother, which we are, it's like I'm trapped in some sort of disturbed Dysphoria. I still get butterflies in my stomach when I hear your gorgeous voice. I'm overjoyed when I make you laugh. In those few moments, it's like nothing changed. What we share is something no one else can ever comprehend. Those feelings of comfort and security I've only ever felt around you remain still. And yet you hurt. You horribly, physically hurt. The butterflies in my stomach flutter and bat their pretty wings so hard I feel like I'm going to vomit. I try so hard to keep my cool, but sooner or later you're going to wonder why my fists are clenched, why my sentences are quipped and why my eyes are constantly rimmed with tears.

The only place where I can be purely happy is in my dreams. In my dreams you've forgiven me, because I am truly sorry. In my dreams you're my friend again, just like you were before. If I could take a pill and sleep forever, I would. If it meant I could be with you again. Quite frankly, I'd rather die than be without you in reality.