So what if our dreams did collide? So what if they did not materialise? So what we could not work it out and all you had to do was to walk out and me to let you do that?
We dreamt of building a castle together when others were simply learning how to carry stones around and talking how stupid it is to be romantic. So what we did not? We still can. You and I. They spoke about us all the time. They adored us. They envied us.
You had fear in your eyes every time someone said a good thing about us. You feared their jealousy; you feared it would end us. It did not. We did.
I wish I could understand your fear. I wish I did not have to say sorry after having laughed at you being so scared of us breaking apart. I wish I could see that it could actually happen one day. I wish I could stop us from breaking like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle pulled apart from far corners by a stubborn kid.
I wish I could remember the dates the way I do them now. So what if they tell you things happen for a reason. I know they keep telling you about me and her. And the other girl. They are not lying. But they don’t know a bit about it either. They are just failed exams that I keep giving, tired of comparing each one with you. They don’t deserve it, do they?
So what, they don’t know me like you do. No one does. I wish I had known that. I still believe in happy endings. So what that they say you are not real. So what if they think I’m crazy or that you are nothing more than just a figment of my imagination. I know they don’t understand us. No one does. And probably no one ever will. Only we both have seen beautiful evanescent rays of golden Sunset together all those summer days. Only we both know that what they call utopia is a real world that we live in.
So what if they have chained me? put me in a rehab and on medications now? You know how much I love you. I would get out of here and meet you again. I wish you had also grown older like I have. You would know then it’s tough for me to be like before. But you’ve always been the same. You always have looked the same…so pretty and straight out of that favourite novel of mine.
So what, they are calling me delusional now, I know you are there. Far better than the so called real ones who judge me sweetheart. For me, you are real.