Inside you, I found this music box

I've fallen in love.

 

For once and finally, my heart has sunk into the depths of this nearly familiar feeling. Like an old friend that you've known for years and years, but just not that well. Until now of course. And I see what all the fuss was about.

 

To be perfectly frank, it's hard to believe it would happen this way. After all these years and hidden feelings and thoughts for distant figments of my imagination, here I am suddenly confronted with a tactile reality within arm's reach. Was the illusion I knew, real, and is this reality that I don't, false?

 

She entered my life with such ... the words feel empty when trying to describe any aspect of her being and presence. Instead of elation, I feel an unsurpassed awe at the deities that have bestowed this favor upon me - at christmas, of all times.

 

To touch her hand. Brush against her lips. Hold her hair in my hands. It's not a stereotypical dream smooth hairdo - the strands are coarse and short - nothing to run my fingers through. But in this frenzy of desire that is not drawn from lust, it matters not.

 

My sweet. My darling. My indulgence in a moment of fiction. I must forever dream in the face of that which may not be fulfilled.

 

Fear the illusion that may not be false.