You wish this was a love story - Chapter 1

Another sleepless night. Another night twisting from my back on my side and so on, trying to get lost in my dreams, or maybe nightmares. Plausible nightmares. I hate this fear rusting my insides. In fact, I don't have any idea why I fear. I fear trying to get in touch with who I am. That's why hours go by and I get lost in my thoughts, scenaries which will only ever take place inside my brain, my soul; your soul maybe, if I'll ever be in it. Be in who's soul? If I could only be more than an enclosed soul and if I'd be opening to someone, my life would change. Lies. I don't need changes. Perfect wannabe, perfect always be, hardly socialising, revising, revising and revising. Perfect life? No. I just wish my boyfriend was hidden under my bed, or could transform into a teddy bear, so he would be there all the time, everytime. Wait, what am I saying? I don't have a boyfriend. Maybe the night off sleep is acting upon my conscience. Get up, start your life. Be yourself. Be the person expected to be? Live.