My Refuge

How long has it been since the last day you weren’t in all my thoughts and dreams?

Always there, making my life easier to live, filling my emptiness with fantasies about you.

It became a routine to have your image in my mind, maybe because even after all this time I still didn’t find someone extraordinarily beautiful as you.

And so, before I could notice, almost all my plans were made to reach you.

I was seeking your approval, your admiration, a little piece of affection or just the chance to make you know me.

In all the utopias my mind would create you would be present, a hidden image or the main inspiration. My entire day was devoted to honor you, so strong was the fascination you caused in me.

Finally, I started to write tons of poems and declarations where every single letter was dedicated to you.

It felt so easy to do it having someone like you to guide me…

Those words were my pride and you were the only one that could really make them be born from me. One day, maybe, you would hear about them.

So I transformed you into my muse, my example of what perfection really was.

And I kept living for that foolish and naive dream.

But time passed and the inspiration became frustration.

The hope was turning into anger with the certainty you would be forever away.

In the agony of another disappointment, I realized how dependent I became on your existence

And my longtime feelings wouldn’t ever have a single answer from you.

I had to be in front of you to understand that you are unreachable.

Just another one in your crowd is what I truly am.

I built a haven in my heart that became my Wonderland, my shameful refuge.

There everything seemed possible and even you were there, holding my hand by your own will.

But the fantasy is now broken and I noticed now how cold my hand is feeling because you never really held it.

I understood the refuge is an illusion that is beyond any effort to become real.

And the little things that you do that would before fuel my love are now just a reminder of how you don’t need me.

Now that your image brings me more pain than joy, those prideful and melodic words became meaningless, a proof of the time I wasted dreaming too much.

I can’t reject the past where you were my star. But can I still keep you in my heart at the same time you hurt me?

If I don’t idolize you anymore, will I be betraying you or myself?

Will I be free or my life will just become sadder?