"Did you write about him?" he asked me one day.

"In a sense," I began, "yes. I wrote of moments I wished had happened. Moments I wanted to experience. Moments I believed could be real but hadn't yet been. I wrote about what I dreamed it would be like falling in love, falling asleep to my lover's heartbeat, falling into a daydream thinking of him. I wrote about the sky feeling more blue and the grass more green, the stars shining that much brighter and the moon being that much closer. All of these poems I wrote while by his side, I wrote while he ignored me. Or maybe he forgot I was there. He didn't care for me, he didn't make me feel special. But these poems I wrote, I was simply dreaming of what could be with you. And I hadn't even met you yet."