it was so real.
you were so tauntingly near me as though my hands were really entwined with yours. but of course, it was simply a dream, simply a wish from my aching subconscious yet no matter how many attempts at disregarding the false elation I felt between us - it lingers. it lingers ever so in my tired psyche.
I'm constantly formulating a way for you to look at me, delve into my soul with your eyes, as I look into yours.
but you don't seem to care! you don't seem to mind me fawning for you, scrambling for you elusive attention. indeed, you seem to thrive off of it. you thrive off of acting as my reason of being! as the source of the little animation I own.
although, I surely don't help our nonsensical interactions, for you believe I hate you yet that could not be further from the truth.
I do, I do, I do.
I do care. I care about the number of times you grace me with your electrifying gaze, the times you can't seem to look away, as if entranced, with those eyes that haunt me in my dreams.
I thought it was real. I felt it was true. I truly thought you looked at me like I was your reason of being as you reached for my hand assuring me everything was alright in our world, our universe.
it was so real.
