Dear Love (an excerpt from my real life tangible paper and pen journal)

I feel you taunting me with your sea-green eyes and sandy hair, mimicking the coast of my small little beach town. The closest form of materialization I can lay my eyes on is a glossy 4 x 6, of you in a foreign place. It's as if, or it is, that you are unaware of my living, breathing state, and fail to acknowledge my captivation and vivid admiration. I can't help but feel ignored, but someday, love, you will lay your eyes on me, and see your deserted hometown somewhere deep in my irises and feel that longing to be noticed. Or maybe I will come to realization with my deepest night terror : being left alone.

Hopefully you're searching for me just like I search for you, hoping to somehow come across your cowboy boots on the graveled pavement in my neighborhood, or hear your voice in the crowded bookstore. But then again, if I did, how would you know who I am? Maybe you wouldn't remember me from your dreams. What if your heart lied to you and told you to walk away from the girl with the big brown eyes? My dear, the worst pain I could feel would be to watch you give me a smug smile and turn and walk away without a word. For now, I will meet you nightly in my dreams and wait for you in the big white house with the picket fence. Please don't get lost.