I’m writing this to you from a time and place where you seem impossible. But a time and place where I think of you endlessly all the same.
I daydream about your existence and wonder when and where you are (or whether you will even read this). Because I just can’t help but utter your name.
You are all of the things I dare not see; my fears, my dreams. You embody them all. And yet I cannot face you. The mere prospect of you plunges me in to the depths of despair. You are too much for me. But I realise that facing you is inevitable none the less.
And I know that when I do it will break my heart. I know that I will not be able to hide the broken parts any more. That my fears and my dreams will finally join us there and transform themselves in to so, so many regrets. It kills me to think of it.
So, for now, I will continue to take your name in vain. To use it to negate all that I am and all that I will ever be.