I hate that I wait for you.

I hate that I sit here waiting on stars wondering where you are.

Or even if you’re real.

You exist only to me as a dream. Just as an idea that is hard for me to believe in.

You’re not even real a person I can see. So why do I wait?

Somehow I think that one day you will appear. Not to save me, but to love me.

To be the companion I’ve always longed for. I want to see you waiting passionately at my door.

To ease the yearning that eats overtakes. No one has ever loved me, romantically speaking.

Is it even worth it? Are you even worth my time? Will your presence make up for the years gone by?

At the end of this waiting tunnel are you the light?

I’m so mad I want you. I want to fight.

You’re not even real. Just an idea of delight.

Then why oh why do I want you to be mine?

To say “I love you, and together we will be forevermore.”. To look in your eyes and immerse myself in young lover’s galore.

But stop. Just wait.

Am I really ready for all of this? Am I really ready for such sweet bliss.

Yes of course I want to feel your tender kiss. But there is much development that I can miss.

If I were to be with you. Right here and now, that would scare me. As I am not ready to take my final bow.

You would question my love, that’s without a doubt.

Is it not that I don’t want you I do.

But if you are real. A dream come true, then I need to grow in my cocoon.

I need time to make and reflect on my mistakes. So that when you make me mad it doesn’t turn into hate.

So I guess really, it is you who has to wait.