When you leave, and you always leave, you leave me unsatisfied and empty. I’m drawn in with the allure of something more, something special. And even with your valiant efforts and persuasive words, you leave me empty. It happens time and time again, you fill my mind, my body, my heart with anticipation and love only to deflate it once you appear.
Giddy anticipation fills me till we break, my expectations vaporize, leaving me more empty than ever before. My air is filled with words, but they are only words, and they mean nothing. And that’s all you are, words and broken emptiness. You presume yourself chivalrous and forcible; unaware that all you have ever given me, all you ever leave me with, is angst and attack. You are not real, you do not exist, my imaginary boyfriend.
You are a facade, built up over years of anticipation of the possibility. The ‘love’ created in our imaginations is so surreal and beautiful, that any promise of reality was shattered when the word was first uttered. It is paradoxical really, the premise is miraculous and forever untouched, yet it demolishes us and our reality. You are not real, we do not exist. I am merely a piece of your imagination, as you are of mine
You are, always have been, and always will be my imaginary boyfriend.
There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it.