She wanted to tell her that she craved her: her presence, her soul, the mere sight of her silhouette.
But she couldn't tell; she knew,
it wouldn't change anything,
she was just an option,
that she was not the girl she hoped she was when she fell in love.

What she loved was just a delusion, one she designed in her mind.
Desperately clutching onto an empty idea that could never be fulfilled.
A persistent ache; reoccurring sighs.
So when the urges of reaching her came, and they came often
she hid, so quietly and patiently
knowing that one day
the girl she dreamed of would emerge; the love she deserved would be received; the life she yearned for would begin...