Letter 1

Dear Fictional love,

I don’t know whether you are just a piece of my imagination or actually sitting there at the other end of the world, right now talking to me like the time is infinite. I just want you to know that whatever love means I don’t know and don’t want to know what it means either. I don’t want some rational definition about random chemical impulses in our body destroy what I’m feeling right now and have been feeling for a long time now. I want it to be irrational and never-ending like talking to you itself feels like. And if we ever meet don’t hug or kiss me, stand there right in front of me so that I get to realize that dreams can turn into reality. You seem to be the perfect one or the one but I’m here to believe that you’re not simply perfect, you are perfect with your imperfections.

It’s not your looks or personality for what I have fallen for you, it’s what you are when we are all alone talking about our mere existence and the limited time we have to make everything we have ever thought of to happen. It’s not your words either it’s just my foolishness that has made me fall in love with you, knowing that you only exist in my mind and are a part of my hallucinations. I’m proud of my hallucinations. I hope that I get to meet you soon.


The girl from the other side of the world.





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