My Mind's Works.

The "Perfect" Date of Hope.

Dear Dylan,

It's funny to think of how long we have been friends in this world. Together we are the sun and the moon, needing each other, depending upon the light of each other in the dark void of the universe, but never able to be together as one. I remember seeing you.. your eyes drew my soul from its weary hiding hole, and gave it meaning. I stared.. I stared into the dark hair that curled around your paled skin, your jaw outlined from the side. The clothes.. its funny to think of how similar we seemed to dress.. or was it because I had seen you dress this way, that I opted to dress similarly?

I couldn't help but have my first blush, my friend beside me, taking no notice as I looked at none but you. I had no choice in the matter. No choice, as my heart swelled when you looked at me. One beat, two beats, a gap.. before two overlapping ones came.

I am stuck in an abyss, a loop.. that none can ever save me from. I was never dreaming.. I was never delusional.. I have real feelings. The kind that never leaves the centre of the heart, the kind that chooses to ache when you know the truth. You will never love me...

..At least, that's what you think. I cannot give up. I can't. I am a lost being without your scent of cologne, the kind that lures the unexpecting female into the male trap. The sound of your voice that rocks the core on which my foundations are set upon. Am I mad to you? Do you truly want to give up... love?

I know I may not be the 'type' you want, or have the exact personality you need. But I have feelings. Do they - Do I not matter? You may have caused me to cry on occasion with the history your life has endured. The lightening you struck upon me, to rid me of my 'delusions'. 

It has not ended. It lives on. I want you. So I must stay here... in the shadows... forever.

I have dreamed of our date. It was simple.. so were us. It wasn't the kind in the books.. it was reality. It was.. real. I would text you, no emojis, or abbreviations, and you respond with those plain words. 'Ok'. Arrange a date. Done. Next; the attire. A dress. Jeans? Whatever we wished. I - we were not fussy. No candles. Home-cooked meal at yours, mine? No. Fast-food. Done. 

If only you gave me the chance I begged for. Perhaps it would have been done. 

I would have been content. Staring. Like the moment I saw you. 

The moment my heart was healed.

The second my life learnt what it truly meant...

to have love.

It wont be.

It can't

cant

why?

Heartbroken.

Dead.

No response.

no text

no words of kindness anymore.

We dont talk. Why?