I read a lot.
I read a lot of romance novels.
I read a lot of fiction.

I know they're not real people.
I hope that the love in the story is how love truly feels...
or maybe it's something else.

To write a story you need imagination. That's fake isn't it?
A fictional story is something that isn't real.
So the themes like love in it aren't real either, right?

I have an overactive imagination.
That's even more fake.
Nothing I could ever imagine would be real.

Maybe one day it might be.
But not now and not in the past.

You know what I often imagine? You and me.
In the future of course.
So... is that fake?

This... "character" that I've "created" based off of you in my head.
It's not you.
You're you and anything else isn't.
Even my "character" that's portraying you.

But what about you... the real you?
Do I know you as much as I know this "character"?
Probably not.

Do I... love you as much as I love this "character"?
... I don't know ...
I now start to fear that...

I've simply fallen in love with the idea of you.

As heartbreaking as that might sound.
As painful as typing this may be.
As nerve wracking as pressing "send" may be.

I hope that I truly love you...
and not this "character" that I've created.