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Dreams.

Perfection is the stuff of dreams. If this is true, then I'm having a nightmare. I never knew perfect sadness is possible. You can't be perfectly sad. There has to be a bit of happiness in there somewhere. Or so I used to believe. The world loves to prove you wrong. It has a sick sense of humor. I am perfectly sad. Perfect sadness is the stuff of nightmares. I know of nightmares very well. I have chosen not to sleep tonight. I don't know when sleep will come. It's the dreams I fear. That's where I see him, all the time, in so many different ways. Compared to things other people have experienced, other griefs, other pains, other sufferings, mine does not compare. This is only a broken heart. This is only disappointment. This is only the pain I feel because I think things are unfair. I thought I was special. I wanted to be special. But I think he kissed her, and he hugged her for such a long time. Longer than he did me. And I realized the truth. I am not special. I am...
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Secrets

Shh.. Don't tell anyone. Come closer. I have secret I want to tell you. It's important you don't tell a soul. This is just for you, from me. Now listen. I can barely wake up in the morning. My alarm is a rather annoying song and it plays continuously until I actually bash the button that stops it. Every morning at 7 am. But I'd wake up anytime to watch you sleep. I spend hours looking through recipes on the internet and at least one hour in the supermarket looking for things to cook for you. I'll then slave over a stove and spend a majority of my day making something while praying that it would at least be remotely edible, if not actually tasting good. Then I'll act as if it was something I did at the last minute with no premeditation whatsoever, and tell you that I've made something for you. You don't have to pick it up if you're too tired. It's fine. I'll just bring it to lunch tomorrow. Or something. No biggie. If I know you're going t...
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Ego.

She hugs him tight under the covers and waits for him to come around. Little twitches of his fingers and his uniform breathing tells her it's not going to be anytime soon. So she waits. And waits. And couldn't wait any longer. She gets up quickly and turned back, checking to see if her movements woke him up. No such luck. She steps off the bed and winces as her feet touches the cold floor. Where are my clothes? After much searching she finds her shirt underneath the bed and her sleeping shorts nowhere in sight. She settled for his boxers and decided it looks better on her. She gives him a little peck on the lips, opens the bedroom door and steps out. *image fades* The new high heels she just bought are killing her, but it's a small price to pay for looking as nice as she is tonight. It's a special day for a special someone, and she has to look good for him. There will be many important people tonight. Looking her best is a must. She wouldn't want to let him down. ...
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