The only thing I can ever think about is your eyes. Every moment I'm awake I am flooded with thoughts, dreams, desires to stare into your eyes. Face to face. Eyes on each other- never wanting to look away as if when we broke eye contact, our entire bodies would shatter- taking away our hope as we fall, in shards, to the ground.
When I'm asleep- well that's a whole new story. I dream of your lips- our lips- meeting. The taste of you is addictive and I can never get enough. The only problem is forgetting to breathe and having to break away from each other- like two magnets with an attraction so high that you can barely pull them apart- to catch our breath before feeding the addiction that I cannot stop.
I constantly believe that we would be perfect together. It would be the ideal love story that we would tell our kids when they ask.
And then reality hits me.
As I'm over here dreaming about life with you, you're there. Pining for another.
Everything I ever though of, dreamt of, and longed for was fiction. It wasn't a fairy tale, you wouldn't be there to kiss me awake, or save me from evil stepsisters. I'd stay asleep for all eternity, I'd be stuck scrubbing floors forever because my prince wasn't actually my prince at all. You're in another story leading another princess on a magic carpet ride or climbing up a tower for her. I am not and never will be your princess.
I'm not your princess because I am not one at all. I am a peasent and peasents don't get their happy endings. They get nothing. I get nothing.
Because I am nothing to you.