I’ve lived mostly in my head lately. Don’t ask me where I’ve been. Don’t ask me how far away.
Have we talked? Have I imagined it. I never say what hurts me, but what hurts me the most is the relationship that we’ll never have. Because of me. Because you’re somebody else.
What I long for is the light.
It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been here for and how many creatures I’ve made up. Even one is one too many. How destructive for my sanity to dream of stars that never shine for me.
What I long for is flesh.
I don’t want to say you pushed me there. You probably didn’t. It’s just… the chemicals in my brain have been inconsistent. But I swear I saw it in your eyes, and now I’m trying not to want. Not to expect anything from hands that never touched my body.
I wish I could say it was something because it definitely was something in my head. Except things in my head are always easy, always vivid, always bright. Never real.
You were unreal in my head.
© W. Donovan