You are one hell of a drug. You don’t know it yet, but I can't pull myself away from you, it seems like I am stuck with you whether I like it or not. It isn’t a bad thing, though, I simply just can't get enough of you when I'm around you, but being away from you is worse, at least that is what I keep telling myself. I don’t check up on you in fear that I will cause myself utter distress, but I don’t think I can get any more stressed over you than I already have. I try to think of happy endings for us, though, so far in the future that it won't even matter than this letter is to an unnamed boy living in the unnamed city of an unnamed state because he doesn’t exist yet.

The boy of my dreams exists purely in my dreams and not much more, he hasn’t manifested himself in front of me yet, hiding in the shadows of my mind because he does not know he is someone who needs to come about yet. Maybe someday, though, he might make his home inside of a real boy and all my thoughts of romantic stabilization will have a face and a name to them, but that’s only an "if" though, right? Not everyone falls in love all the time, or sometimes it simply just takes longer than you might be hoping for.

And I know I am not the only one who thinks about such things while eating dinner or doing something mindless that only requires handwork, so your mind is free to wander. Does this make me a hopeless romantic? Sitting around and thinking about a faceless and nameless boy who has yet to be a real person, waiting for him to come and change the little bits of life that a partner is required for? Probably. It’s okay though, I don’t mind waiting for him, I guess I have time. For the boy of my dreams, I might be able to make him in between homework and parties or maybe, he’s part of these things. Maybe I’ll find him at a party or maybe he’s waiting for my the libray, flipping through a stack of index cards dramaticly, trying to make sure he knows what he needs to know.

Some day me and you will cross paths though and the stars will align, and there will be fireworks exploding in the background of my mind. And maybe then, I wont have to dream of happy endings anymore.