Illusion

I hate how a person influences my life. I hate him for making me smile in my imagination. I hate him for making me dream with satisfaction. I hate him for changing my pace of living. We're so close, yet so far. Empathizing with Angel Clare in Tess of the d'Urbervilles, I realize that I have an impractical, idealistic view of love. The guy I have a crush on exists merely in my imagination. People seem to pursue idealistic love. A beautiful illusion, he occupies my thoughts. Pursuing the beautiful illusion, I have to throw a stone, break the reflection, and ripple the limpid lake. Eventually, I'll wake up from my sweet dream and accept the truth.