Am I allowed to love you?
To love you like that, love you beyond myself?
Love beyond the reality of my world and the physicality of this existence. Beyond time and space. Beyond what makes sense, beyond the human form.
For this is the love I have, and sometimes I feel guilty. Should I love you at all? Shouldn’t I be worried about a job, about getting old, about building a life with someone real, about real friends I don’t have, real dreams I have lost, real things I’d never wanted to have and never will?
I’m sorry, cause maybe I am not allowed. But this is the love I have.