The boy continued to ask himself, “Why?" He could not find the answer he wanted. She was just too much like a dream for him that he could not find a way to speak with her. Everyday, he would try to make these dreams into reality. He wanted to suspend their fleeting moments together from moments to minutes and from minutes to hours.
“Is this about a girl?” she asked with her rosy-red smile.
Interest.
“Yes,” the boy said with his moist, soft lips, “this story is about a girl that is far away from this me, yet so close in the dreaming me.”
Illusion.
“Aw, how romantic. Who is she, this girl from your dreams?”
Alienation.
The eyes of the girl were far too closed, too shut, that the boy closed his own heart, as well. But only for a moment.
With a sincere smile, he looked out towards the blossoming cherry trees and said, “I wish you could know her.”
Desire.
“I wish I could take you into my own heart and show you all there is to it.”
Imagination.
“I wish I could make you… make you….”
Yearning.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Worry.
Her eyes were fully open now but not filled in what he wanted them to be. In his dreams, they were full of affection. With these eyes looking at his face, all he could do was try his best to avoid being suffocated by his own love for them. He had to let his feelings go.
“Love”, he spurted.
Attempt.
“What about love?”
Questioning.
“I’ll never....”
Doubt.
She pressed on. Her eyes became narrower, her eyebrows squished together, and her tone became ever more demanding.
“Never, what?”
Anticipation.
“ I’ll never get you to love me, right?”
Confession.
“Of course not.”
Rejection.
To be continued…
