Some Writing.

I wanted to return to you. 
As I closed my eyes I pictured everything I could remember about you. Your hair. Your smile. The shirt you were wearing. The way you smelled. Your arms around me. Your laugh. 
I pictured everything until you were almost there. Just almost within reach… 
I wanted to grab your hand. I wanted to follow you into warmth of my mind. I wanted you to lead me through the narrow hallways and the too small rooms and the places with no light. I wanted to walk through the movie theaters full of my memories and I wanted you to close my eyes when it got to the bad parts. 
I wanted to watch you walk. I wanted to walk after you, a few steps behind. I wanted to let you wander on your own but then I wanted to find you later sitting in a stairwell with a friend, laughing and telling stories. I wanted to walk up and sit with you and say nothing. 
I wanted to think you were real. 
And then it got to the point where I couldn’t figure out how you’re not. I’m infinitely clever but I do not believe I could have created the way you smelled or the way your hair fell on your forehead. If I created you, then I would know your story; you wouldn’t be so fascinating. Your laugh wouldn’t have mesmerized me. You couldn't have said, touched, thought things that I never considered before. You’d be just another part of me that I already knew. 
So I wanted to follow you. 
I wanted to know who you were and how you got in to my mind. I needed to know what trapped you there, both because I wanted to let you free and because I needed to know how to reinforce it.
But mostly I wanted to return to you. 
To fall asleep and find you over and over again.