Until Then

 

The very last email I got from Michael before he left included this image.
Sometimes I wonder if I've pretended for so long... if there will ever be anything but pretend. Or if there ever was. It's so hard to think of someone as being real when you don't see them. The majority of my friends have never met him. Which only perpetuates the idea that maybe he doesn't exist. My memories of Michael are perfect. I interact with guys now and I wonder if I'm comparing them to some ghost that I made up in my head while I was sleeping. That maybe I should just give into creating a relationship with someone that doesn't compare. Because it's probably not fair that I make those comparisons to begin with. How could a relationship be as good as ours was? How could things have been so perfect? Am I just starting to forget? Have I created a false memory of how it was?

Of course, I know the answers to my questions. I have inner debates with myself fairly often. Waiting is easier now than it used to be. I can barely imagine him coming back. Because it doesn't feel real. I think I really have succumbed to the idea of living life the way I do now. Atleast most of the time.

I'm convinced that seeing him again will be one of the most surreal moments of my life.