All my life, I wished that he was just a part of my vast and deep imaginations, built upon the foundation of my endless boredom, made because of the yearning, longing, and lack of emotions I feel in this reality.
I wished that he just existed in my imagination, where everything's under my control, where everything's flawless and perfect, where I can remember every single detail even like the name of the street where I first met his eyes; in my imagination where all I can feel is happiness and pure joy, in my imagination where I am impossibly hurt and where I may stop everything if it's my will.
But I've realized now that I am beyond happy that he existed in this world; beyond joyful that he wasn't just a figment of my overactive imaginations.
As tears rolled down my cheeks, I immediately looked away as I catch for more air for my suffocating lungs. I don't know what to say for I am too fluttered and overwhelmed.
