Hopeless Romantic

Me.

I'm a dreamer.

A thinker.

Some might even call me a hopeless romantic.

They'd be right.

I sit here now thinking about you.

You. Your voice. Your eyes. Your smile.

Your everything.

Everything. It's just a dream.

A dream is like a wish.

I wish we could be together.

Too bad dreams rarely come true.

Rare. Like you.

A one of a kind.

What am I? A none of a kind?

Kind. It's what I long to be.

Yet I'm a jerk, as you know.

Know. I know. I know you'll say no.

Why even ask?

I write these words with all my heart.

Or whatever is left of it.

I try not to think.

Think of how I'll never get to hold you.

Or even touch you.

Or even kiss you.

Maybe dreaming is better than this.

There I can be with you.

No heartbreak.

No pain.

No sorrow.

At least there I can pretend you know who I am.

Because, I'm just me.

A dreamer.

A thinker.

A hopeless romantic.