I fell in love…or came close, at least, to someone who doesn’t believe in love.
I really do mean it, too.
I’m not the kind at all to care or think about someone else in the ways I thought of them…but there I was, walking right along the borderline.
Fascination and curiosity-those were my starting points to this horrible destination. They were his as well.
Now I can’t help but wonder if that’s where he happened to stay while I pushed further into this dilemma.
What if love doesn’t exist and I was subconsciously molding him into what I’d read about in all the books?
If I was, then why him…of all people…
I didn’t believe in the love everyone always talked about.
I believed in something real, something better, something reachable.
And then I became involved in everything. Thinking about them, worrying, even missing them…knowing they didn’t think, worry or miss me at all.
It didn’t stop a little bit of me from hoping maybe I’d been thought of, for just a second.
Now I’m here.
Not missing him.
Realizing I’d dreamt up someone who wasn’t real.
Wasn’t better than they are.
Not even remotely reachable.
He wasn’t possible.
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