The moments that we spent together, was it a lie? A fabulous and beautiful lie? I lay awake in bed, thinking about you and your convincing ways. I was such a fool to think that someone like you would love me, love me for who I am.
I know that I am different, but you should know, know that I thought that you would at least glance past my bruises and try to discern what I was thinking and feeling behind my mask.
I would die for you, but now I suppose that this relationship is over. Sometimes, I still think that you want to be friends, but I know it to be a one-way street, and in my heart, you are all that I desire, but, again, I know it to be a one-way street.
Is it a delightful dream, picturesque in every way, or is it a ghastly nightmare, with demons torturing my heart with razors and needles of artificial compassion? I believe the latter, because there is no one to comfort me after you leave. Love is a battlefield they say, and I seem to have lost the war.
I am a hunter, a hunter of something unreachable. You are the unreachable. Are you a falsehood? The horrifying trickery of my inadequate life? The inaccessible archangel of my imaginings?
Is this a game? If it is, I want to be your pawn, even if it means swallowing the monumental lies like bitter medicine.
Do you not understand that? Anything that I have done, let me make it right. Any wrongdoings committed by me need to be cleansed by your forgiveness. Do you not understand? I am craving your companionship, your fervor, your love!
I love you.
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