He said it was perfect, almost soothing.
Those were words I could not fathom, for I couldn't have felt more different.

Thunder struck and I shivered,
as a relaxed grin swept its way onto his face.
He reached out and welcomed me into his gleaming aura.
Lightening engulfed the once dulled sky once more, but I was unfazed,
my worry consumed by his warmth.

"Perfect" I whispered.

I tare open my eyes
every morning, broken away from haunting adventures.
Aware of society thriving around me,
conscious beings emanating their skills,
simply living.

But here I lay,
awake, but not fully feeling so.
Watching the world continue around me,
while I linger, engulfed in a thought.
That I am simply not awake.

The concept of you scares me.
The thought of you picking at the thing I spent years constructing.
Piece by piece you get closer,
to me,
to what I try so hard to destroy.
Not understanding why I'm so reluctant,
why I, after so long, cannot do it again.

For I do not believe feelings can be mutual
I do not believe one can look at me and feel the way i do,
I do not believe, in certain light
that this concept of love exists.

I believe in wholehearted conversations,
and laughs underneath the gleaming moon.
I believe in strong friendships.
But for this to be everlasting,
for one to crave me as much as I crave them,
that is fictitious.