You know, I thought I had to
build my life around him, that he was all that I had to have. Failing to do so
would bring terrible consequences, there had to be something bad coming out of
not putting him at the centre of my life.
I dreamt, I wrote, I cried, I starved,
I eat, I fell and fell and fell and fell and fell and fell, never seeing the
bottom before I hit. Time again I scraped my knees, grovelling, crawling after
him. Never to be seen or heard or noticed.
You know, I thought he would
notice me eventually, because the hero always does. He always finds his heroine
in the end, even though we might think he's made a mistake too many. She’s
always there for him to find, it's never too late and he realizes that it's her
he loves. My hero had all the characteristics of a true hero, the looks, the
words, the courage.
I worshipped the ground he
walked upon, he was the rising sun, come to wake my dormant pastures, he was
the rain, come to soak my sleeping seeds, he was the night sky, come to
sprinkle stars over my darkened earth.
You know, I thought I would die if he
didn't acknowledge my existence, the sun can't simply ignore its planets, the
rain can't avoid noticing the ground it soaks, the bright stars can't ever be
blind to the fact that they alone give us light in the dark of night.
My love spun webs around my
heart, so you see; it's a tricky, sticky path of possible life threatening
peril. He never came wandering the ways to my heart, he never gave me the time
of day, he never knew, anything. I've been living a lie and now I'm stuck in
this. This non-existence. This never was, never will be.
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