A fairytale previously imagined

Lying again in bed, With a tissue wet to a mache texture in my hand As wet as the pillow on which my head physically rests With the same thoughts circulating, The same memories recalled: the many times I pretended to believe his lies, the many times I ignored the signs, Twice I volunteered to be hurt, and the one time, I gave up my innocence for something, now of insignificant calibre: his presence in my life. In a desparate seek for someone to love me, Decisions characteristic of a low IQ were made. Convinced myself better than any second-hand car salesman That all I saw was a mere reality and not the fairytale previously imagined: the simple beauty of holding hands with a public audience. the pleasure of feeling needed for every choice made. the confidence of our merge well-known. a bond between us, inseperable. and, throughout, an attraction that remained unchanged. All I saw All that I felt returned to me Was just that, A fairytale previously well imagined.