Written For Me

I’ll never forget the first time I found him.

I was taken aback by his boyish charm. He made me laugh harder than anyone has before. He has eyes that hide pain beneath their steel blue exterior. His hair is unruly- tousled every which way. He’s tall in stature and strong in character. He’s broken, which makes him all the more easy to love. He’s perfect. As if he was written for me.

William.

I’ve fallen in love with him many times. Harder with each fall.

Sometimes, on the nights in which I am most lonely, I imagine the life we could have together. A white picket fence. Two car garage. Our kids, Truman and Harold, play in the yard.

William comes home from work, exhausted. I greet him with his favorite beer and a kiss. When I ask about his day, he walks to the couch. For a moment, it seems like he’s ignoring me. But he pats the seat next to him, inviting me to join him. I accept the invitation and he puts his arms around me.

I look up and smile, content with the life I built for us. He smiles back at me. I ask about his day again.

“Did Jerry show up late to the office again, honey?”

No response.

So, we sit there in silence. I don’t want to sit in the silence. It’s just the way it has always been and will always be. Even in my fantasies, I can’t get him to talk to me.

William has never kissed me or hugged me or held my hand or even looked into my eyes. It hurts to know that he will never know that I love him with all of my being. It hurts to know that he will never know that I exist. Perhaps what hurts the most is that I already know that he doesn’t exist.

Sure, it’s good he’s not real. He won’t ever be able to break my heart. That’s not his story. However, it hurts knowing he can’t break out of the pages. We’ll never be together outside of his limited world, a world that I can’t enter.

In those moments where I remember his un-reality, I pick up the book again. There, he’s always waiting for me… Ready for me to fall in love with him all over again.