Where are you?

This is the lone question haunting the recesses of my mind for as long as I can dare to remember.

I fail to count the number of times wherein I wished that you'd arrive right in front of me and sweep me off my feet and then carry me to some far away corner of the world where nobody would ever find us.

We'd have our own private little world made up of just you and me.

You'd let me burry my head in your chest, wrap my arms around your neck and tell you all of the things I've never found the courage to tell another soul save for you.

All you do is listen to me and hold me close as if you never have any intention of letting me go; as though the loss of contact would cause you to shrivel up and die.

You don't say anything; not one single word. Words have surpassed their usefulness where the two of us are concerned. There is no further need of them nor will there ever be again.

You know this for a fact because you understand me…you get me in a way no one in this lifetime ever does.

You know what my needs are even though I don't speak them out loud.

You are unlike any other person that exists in this world with me.

You are the one person I am fated to be with.


How wonderful it would be for me if it were real. If you were real…

But I can only dream so much, can't I?

And I guess I'll continue dreaming for I do not wish for reality to point out something I've come to falsely believe in due to the desperation and loneliness gnawing slowly into my being.

Ironically enough, in the back of my mind, I hold the answer to the question I have asked myself countless of times.

I know exactly where you are.

In my mind. You always have been.

It was I who created you. You are a figment of my imagination.

I am Pygmalion and you are my Galatea.

And like the bittersweet destiny that befell him, I have fallen in love with my own creation as well.

I was afraid to admit that to myself…

I was afraid of losing hope…of losing you.

Though it pains me to acknowledge that, I can't continue to rationalize about this…not anymore.

Hundreds of times, I have romanticized about you and me being together. There was nothing wrong with that, I thought. Detaching myself from reality in order to "see" you was a small price to pay, it seemed to me then.

You were my sanctuary…my asylum away from the problems that ruthlessly descend upon me. Problems destined to shatter my fragile soul and sever me from what little is left of my sanity.

You were my haven from all that I spurn with such animosity that consumes every fiber of my being.

For a few treasured minutes, I was happy. Deliriously so.

Despite that, I knew that I was living in a continuous state of denial.

I realize that I've been caught up in my own lie to the point of not being able to differentiate what's real and what's not.

It's time I did myself a favor and come clean.

There's no telling whether you really exist out there.

In this great big planet of ours, I have no inkling whatsoever as to whether you're alive…

Whether you're breathing the same air I'm breathing…

Whether you're laughing at some totally insane joke you overhear me tell one of my friends…

Whether you're passing me by in the streets that I walk on…

Whether you're crying the same way I do every time I think about you and what we could have been…

Whether you're lying on your back one starry night and reach out your hands in front of you, offering me a silent caress…

Whether you're lying wide awake at night and longing for me the same way I long for you…

But it can never be, I guess.

Tis only wishful thinking, that.


I didn't want to be torn into shreds and have nothing of me left behind just because I couldn't cope up with every stressor that came my way.

And so I hung on to you…and to that fine thread of happiness you bring me; despite knowing the fact that I'm only fooling myself in the process of finding you along with incomparable bliss and true love.

But the real question this time would be…do you really exist outside the four corners of my mind?

Is fate really sick and twisted enough to enjoy torturing me in my current state of misery?

Will I continue to make believe that my mind is the only place where I can find you and be with you?

Must I always resort to that?

I hope not.

If given the chance to make one wish, you know what I'd wish for above anything else in the world.

There's nothing more I'd ever want or need.


Just you.

With me.

Always and forever.

And so I ask again…

Where are you?