I see his face in my mind's eye and feel my chest being lit on fire. It's not fair. Everything is so perfect when I'm with him, but I always have to wake up and come back to the cold reality that he is only the
Man of my Dreams.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to make his image disappear from where it has burned onto the backs of my eyelids, forming each time I close my eyes again. I feel like screaming at the unfairness of it all until I have no voice left for anything but I can only sob. With each wretched sob, the cracks in my heart get a little bit deeper but I know what holds them together: A wish that someday, somehow, he would be more than just the Man of my Dreams.