I've got to shower, to try and shake off the feeling of you. Every cell in my body aches, because I cannot be with you. Lie, lies, lies, foolish dreams. Tormenting my waking hours, images of you. Is it sad that I create this pain? Or is it beautiful? Is it sad that I get a taste, of something that is not real? Or is it beautiful? My greatest love story, plays out in dreams. It is a taste of perfection, which can never be real. Both tragic and exquisite. You are not you, you are a perfect version of you. I am not I, I am a perfect version of I. Perfect versions, perfect together. In my reality, I miss you, that perfect you. I miss a person who doesn't exist. Both sad and beautiful. Even with the pain of waking, even with the disorientation, I never want to lose this love story. It is the closest thing to perfection I will ever taste. Perhaps even the closest to big B Being I will ever be.