Heaven, Hell, and Those In Between

You never doubted his existance even if you only met him in your dreams. After all, what's wrong with true love that you can experience whether inside or outside of your imaginative mind?

He gives you the warmest of hugs and the sweetest cuddles. He whispers promises that could make you swoon. He gives you forehead kisses like he was the knight protecting you from bad dreams. He gives you affectionate pats and meaningful advice. He cooks you food and gives you drinks. He scolds you for your inappropriate behaviour and praises you for your achievements and for getting through the day on your own so you can spend time with him as soon as the shadows had fallen. He was your euphoria. He was a drug—a cure for the toxicity of the real world.

The others would mock and ridicule you for claiming his real presence. You argued that even if they can't see him, he still resides in your heart. Only then can you be dubbed as a freak, a crazy woman, a misfit.

But he treasures all of your imperfections.

He cooks for you, prepares a warm bath of scented oils and rose petals, tucks you into bed until you could wake up with a new smile on your face.

You love him.

He smells like the ingredients of a mouth-watering dessert. Of course, his kisses would feel heavenly, too as well as the brush of his fingers against your skin; he'll trace all your scars, visible or invisible and would tell you that he loves them because each scar conceals a story.

He was your happily ever after. You would have loved to continue living in bliss with him as your eternal husband but you slowly drifted away from the confines of sleep.

Due to your insistence of drinking sleeping pills just to reach a slumber, you unknowingly entered another door that wasn't his.

And there you met the cruel prince. He was the complete opposite of your heavenly guardian angel. He was the epitome of evil, of temptation and the forbidden fruit of the Garden of Life.

When you craved an embrace, he would cage you in his arms until you reluctantly fell asleep but lacking the knowledge that his cage would become your protector in the days to come come. When you craved for a reassuring advice, he would whisper words of encouragement and would tell you to keep fighting. When you craved for true love, he would turn away and leave you in the darkness until you remembered he wasn't the guy you looked forward to seeing.

However, despite all the protests brewing inside your mind, you began to fall for him, too. His cold demeanor was a shield. His smiles were brief but they held so much raw emotion that seeing it would be catching a glimpse of sunlight in a cloud-covered sky. You descended into depravity and you completely forgot about your husband that was forged from the light.

When you fell into a natural state of sleep, you returned to your original dream world. But there was no more.

Your dream house was in shambles, your garden was a mess of dead plants and grey flowers and the guy you fell for the first time turned into an unrecognizable man who would no longer acknowledge you.

It was understandable to return to your sleeping pills to enter the other world.

But you drank too much on one moonless night.

A third door painted in monochrome was what you opened and what you saw took the breath out of you. Literally.

He had grey eyes imitating that of a storm and hair of ebony. However, he didn't look lifeless. He was very, very alive.

"You've travelled between worlds, princess," he said, "and now you're residing in mine. "

You didn't know how to respond to that. Should you be elated that a third man would be someone you could fall in love with? Did that make you a cheater?

No. It was because you didn't choose this. Reality pushed you to choose between three doors.

"Would it placate you that this world will be your home for an endless cycle? Will that be enough time to fall in love with me, too?"

Did that mean you were going to stay here forever? No more reality to worry about? No more responsibilities?

The man waited for you to initiate things first. He would always ask for consent. He would never beg for more or whine because of the lesser number of affectionate gestures. He wasn't perfect by anyone's standards nor was he lacking in some aspects of love.

He was the type to wait no matter how long it would take for you to warm up to him because you got all eternity.

His love for you wasn't expressed in abundant ways or simply physical wants. He was the balance between two worlds—not too placid and monotonous and not too dark and adventurous.

He wasn't perfect so if you had met him in reality, realization would hit you and you would have fallen in love. And you would have dreaded to fall asleep because it will be 8 hours before you got to see him again.

But it was too late anyway.

With him in this make-believe world of yours,you would never run out of time.

His colors weren't dull but they respected normality in your otherwise abnormal life.

You weren't in love yet like how fast you had fallen for your ideal type and the unpredictable tempter.

Loving him was a slow process but you know the end result would be worth it. If you truly experienced love with him, you wouldn't have any second thoughts or hesitations anymore.

"No need to rush, princess," he would coo, "We have all the time in the world."