PROLOGUE
Diary Note
He was a dream.
He first appeared at my golden age of 15.
A melancholy memory of a possibility never meeting him again.
Since when, when I was so passionate of a fictional man created by my imagination,
Maybe it was how he comforted me that no man ever did. A simple touch filled with passion. A little pure love fluttered my heart, made my breath shaky, and I was on cloud nine.
How he held me in his arms, allowing himself to be possessive of me.
The comfort of his body close to mine was addictive. The desire I’d want in my life everlasting.
While cuddling, I faced him, and we were smiling. However, I saw no face. I mumbled no name. I ruffled his hair, and the laugh we shared was tremendous. I trust this man more than I trust myself.
His silky black hair attracted my fingers so much it seems to never let go.
I was bold and kissed his cheeks.
In which shocked me, I could not control the urge of affection.
He held me closer, face near one another.
I closed my eyes. I waited for a minute, and when I finally opened them. Reality welcomed me.
After 8 successful years, I couldn’t seem to forget. As time grows, it became more of a dedication to me.
He became a secret, I only told the ones whom I trusted the most.
Was he a genuine love?
Such stupidity of a thought of mine.
Love never existed and it never will to me.
I always seem to remind myself repeatedly,
Play the players, care for the genuine
Fall for no one.
But I can’t always deny the possibility of how things may be if he were real.
And if he were, I will never let him go. Right?
Sincerely, Liliana Avery
