I've learned to think you're not real.
It makes the situation easier,
It takes the edge off the pain.
Everything is clear cut
When the person who hurt you is a character.
When you created them only for a good story
That replays in your imagination.

But when they speak your name,
It occurs to me that you exist.
A person who walks these halls,
Just as I do.
A person capable of hurt and love.

And when the story is real,
My thoughts are that much more scattered.