Haunted

"I am waiting for someone who will never come," she says to herself.

It's all in my head. I used my deepest of thoughts to make up something so utterly beautiful, it can never be true. I have known it all this time, still, I let it go on. What was I thinking?

"You weren't thinking," says a voice. 

No, I wasn't. 

I just want to go for it. I need you to go with me. I feel haunted. Haunted by this image I made of you. I can stare at nothing all day and have you with me in my mind. Sometimes, I can feel you holding my hand, whispering words into my ear. I'm haunted by my imagination of you.

You and I walked a fragile line, but both paces are slowing down now. Not to talk to each other, but to turn away from each other. My image of you is slowly fading, and with every raindrop, I feel a little part of you being washed away. You're disappearing ever so slowly, and all I can do is stare. I will wait until you're invisible. Until I can no longer see my image of you, but see you for who you really are.

"Enough is enough," she sighs.