You and I, the imaginary us

In my imaginary world, you came up to me and whispered how fat I've become.

I snatched one of your hands and placed them around my hips. I demanded that you explore the fats and measure how fat I've become.

But that was just my imagination. Now I don't feel anything for you save those residues of our moments together before. Decades ago.

But I was still in love with those moments and I am writing in memory of those.

You have your family now, I have mine. You have your secrets, I have my own.

We parted ways for reasons I don't know. I longed for you, perhaps you longed for me, too.

And I imagined thousand moments of reunion with you. With only good things to spare.

Then it hit me, how we fell apart. There were bitter sweet remnants. I still feel that from time to time.

I am on the verge now of resigning. From things I am involved with now. Literally. Figuratively.

I'm tired of my fantasies. But you are nowhere near the fault. This is me. Together with my fantasy of the imaginary us.

Perhaps one day, an opportune time will come for us to bridge the broken feelings of yesterday. Just sending regards to each other through a short distance.

But forever may pass and that wouldn't be realized. At all.

But now, if I may inform you, I have travelled to a different fantasy world.

It is inherent for me, loving the young and fresh youth and I am seeing boys of sorts. I just envy their youth and the possible romance that may have been built between us.

And I reject that feeling. I don't allow it at all. But the temptation is just too strong at times and I allow myself some slack.

But I discipline my mind lest I go on a more fantastic ride.

And in here I finish my speech.

So long before we might meet again.