I did not know him

I did not know him, I just knew my idea of him.

I did not know him, I just knew my idea of him.

I did not know him, I just knew my idea of him.

I did not know him, I just knew my idea of him.

My idea of him was pretty good. It might do justice to him, or maybe not. I cannot tell if I am correct or not for a simple reason. I do not know. I do not know him. He is perfect for me though, or so suggested the perfect image I had crafted of him.

I wish I knew him, I wish I could get to talk to him. Maybe then my idea will shutter to pieces like breaking glass and my image of him will crumble like castles on the sand.

But this is impossible to do; I want to break the wall standing between us, the barrier that keep us apart. When I do this, I can burn my image of him to the ground and denounce my false god. But the wall he has hidden himself behind is impossible to penetrate and so the idol stands.

I have to let my dream go; it is so hard, so painful. Who can easily exchange their dream for reality? I am a dreamer and I have to change. Until then though, I can try the old teacher’s way. I can use the primary school’s punishment and write it a thousand times…

I did not know him, I just knew my idea of him.

I did not know him, I just knew my idea of him.

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