Day 4

He and I blocked this memory:

The moonlight shines through the blinds of the window that was once hers. He looks out the window again, oh, how I wish he would spend time with me instead. The bed hasn't been made for weeks and all I have been able to do is look at it. He still does not permit me to do anything in this lonely, dark apartment. I see images of her face on the moon, the rays of light bouncing off of it radiates such beauty, incomparable to that of hers.

He weeps once again, he sees illusions of her walking back into her room, but as he follows, she only fades. She looks at me and gestures me to follow, but if I would follow, then she would leave. I make her, her favorite food, she doesn't eat it. I leave her a flower, she doesn't smell it. I look at her, and she turns away. Why does she make it so hard to hate her? I have a deep infatuation for her, yet she doesn’t notice. I wish that she could see me as I see her.

And I wish that he would see me, as he used to. He may still think I am imaginary, but I am as real as the girl he fell in love with. I must keep showing him myself, maybe then he would remember those days, we spent together in the coffee shop, talking, before she ever showed up.

I miss you my friend, why can't you see that? I wish only once you would look into my eyes again.