I am starting to believe more and more that it actually happened, that we actually had something. I can fully appreciate why we both kept it a secret. I didn’t belong in your world and you were too perfect for mine. We didn’t even need to talk, we didn’t need to be together to be together. Our distance was our link. No one else could see the conversations which went on with just a glance.
I think though, 610, that it meant more to me than it did to you. I think you chose me because you knew you could leave me easily. Maybe it wasn’t as real for you as it was for me. It takes effort to exist in fantasy.
Of all of the love that I’ve experienced and all of the relationships I’ve had, you’re the one who keeps coming back to me. Do you do it intentionally? Are you trying to hurt me or do you miss what we had too? That sounds ridiculous because you can’t control what goes on in my mind. You can’t control my thoughts and memories. Somehow you do though, 610, that’s the power you have over me.
Are you just a part of my illness, 610? Is it dangerous to believe in something which may have never existed? Would you be disturbed to read this or relieved? Did you feel it too? Do you still feel it? Will you come back to me? Did you ever leave? Were you ever really here or were you just a damaged spot in my mind?
Let’s start again, 610.