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Rated: E · Prose · Romance/Love · #1425884
the sadness of dreaming yourself into love
          She knew it. Deep down in the unspoken parts of her heart, she knew it so completely, yet...she could not accept the fact that being in love with him was only a reality in her dreams. Why, she would wonder and ask unceasingly, why was he so different? Why couldn't she be closer to him? Why wouldn't he love her back? Each painful question left in its wake a trail of silent answers and agonizing could be's and what if's in her mind. Too many times had she closed her eyes, wishing she could be someone to him-someone he would share his intimate thoughts and secrets with, someone whose hand he would reach for, someone whose skin would receive the tender murmurs of his lips, someone...he loved. And she imagined being in love with him in her dreams so often and so earnestly, that it almost did become a reality to her. She thought of it endlessly, to the point where the line between reality and dream became the same blissful blur that filled her eyes when around him. And though their relationship as "just friends" ever remained the same dry mildness she fiercely despised, her behavior towards him changed with each imagined encounter. Every time he passed her, she would avoid his eyes and lower her glowering face, remembering the intimate late-night conversations that never happened; she blushed as she watched his lips, unable to talk and only able to think of the shy kiss that was never shared; she smiled and laughed foolishly at the memories of things he had never said or done with her. And in this way, she intertwined her life with his; although they were never meant to be joined, she forced him to embrace her, cherish her, and love her, even if it was only in her dreams.
          She couldn't do it. Deep down in the unspoken parts of her heart, she knew she had to let him go. Yet, at the same time, she wanted so much to keep him, tightly sealing his illusionary affection within her safe dream world. She knew that once he left her dreams, he would never come back. But how, she would ask herself day and night, how could she suddenly make the feelings go away? How could she unlove someone she had loved for almost 7 years? How could she survive without him? Each painful question brought with it the anticipated sorrow of being alone and the sense of hopelessness at being unable to love. Every time she defiantly declared to herself that she would stop-stop thinking about how his day might have been, if he was getting enough sleep, if someone else was making him laugh and smile, if he had thought of her even once-she fell. And then once again, she would catch herself in the middle of her dream of being in love with him and shake herself free, trying to remember how far her heart had slipped this time. It was too hard. She was too afraid and too in love, but mostly just too afraid. It was almost 7 years ago since the time when she could let a day go by without thinking about him. Now, she was afraid to return to that place where she had no choice but to know, so completely, that her love would never happen. It scared her to death, understanding that there was something in her life where just her heart wasn't good enough, wasn't appropriate enough. And in this way, she clung to him; although she should have let him go, she stubbornly held on tighter, willing for her heart to be enough, even if it was only in her dreams.
          She looked straight ahead. Deep down in the unspoken parts of her heart, she knew she wanted to turn around and see his face, to fill her eyes and heart with the person she had missed so achingly for almost two years. And yet, though she desperately wanted to, she understood that she couldn't. Not yet, she would whisper to herself, later, much later. Too soon. It's much too soon. Each breathless vow promised a day when she could finally unabashedly look into his eyes; when she could boldly call his name and be playfully towards him; when she could finally be truly honest and carefree around him. She knew such a day would come. She knew because she was letting go, had been letting, for almost two years now. It kind of hurt and it made her sad, but she finally understood: he had his place and she had hers and they were never meant to be joined; he would be happier without her. Accepting reality hurt more than actually living it, but she forced herself to. And so she would brush away 7 years of loving and 2 years of waiting for one day where she could jokingly say "I love you" because it wasn't true. She would strip away every memory that didn't happen and leave them at the tip of her pen to become the troubles of some poor, heart-broken character in her stories. And she would tear herself away from him, because as it turned out, just her heart wasn't enough. She would wait until enough time had passed between them, even though their relationship as "just friends" had never changed from that same dry mildness she despised. And only when all was quiet and settled would she perhaps look back and laugh at her foolishness.
          But still, even through it all, she knew. As she turned her back to him and began walking away, a small smile graced her lips; she knew the truth. She knew that she would be alright. No matter what she told herself and what she erased, she would never stop being in love him, even if it was only in her dreams.
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