I Love You but You're Real

nine

You left just a couple of minutes ago. I'm surprised that you're back already! I hope you can continue to come back this often.

Well, either that or stay longer.

Maybe the "connection" that you and I have is actually like cell phone service: at some places you can get a stronger signal, and at others you get a bad signal.

My room had a bad signal, I guess, I sometimes waited weeks on end just to feel a single breath of yours.

Or maybe it's not a signal. Maybe it's just you.

Do you like talking to me?

Rather, listening to me?

Because you never do speak to me.

If you could see my face- which I am sure you can't- you would see the tear forming in my eye.

It hadn't even crossed my mind before now that you may hate me.

I don't know.

Why am I telling you this?

You probably don't care.

But maybe you care about this newfound city I have emerged in.

It'll make me feel better to talk about things to you, it always does.

I'm still standing outside of the skyscraper that had contained my for however long I had been in here.

I'm simply watching.

Observing.

A stranger brushes past me and I hear a snippet of his conversation with himself.

Stranger: ...haven't talked in such a long...

No, he's talking to his own invisible being.

A middle aged woman just steps out onto the sidewalk from a skyscraper across the street from me.

Her skyscraper looks exactly like mine.

Heck, all of the buildings here are identical to mine.

The woman stands outside of the door, just like I am, and looks around.

She looks confused just as I am.

She went through the same situation as I did, I presume.

The woman tilts her head ever so slightly upward and I can see her moving her lips as she speaks aloud to her invisible being (just as I am with you).

She pauses, as if listening.

Does her being speak back to her?

I wish you would...

And then the woman raises her left arm straight above her head. After waiting a few seconds, a man hurries up to her.

I watch them shake hands, introducing themselves, as it looks.

The man walks with the woman down the sidewalk out of my line of vision.

I look down the street a bit, toward the building beside the one the woman had just came out of.

As I watch, I feel a slight déjà vu sensation.

A teenage girl steps out of the building, talks to her being, listens to the response, and raises her hand.

Mere seconds pass before an elderly woman shows up near the girl. Introduction, handshake, escort down the street.

Am I supposed to raise my hand?

You don't talk to me so I believe that I should skip that step.

I raise my hand.

And wait.

It's only a couple of seconds but it feels like hours.

A stranger walks up to me.

Stranger: Hello, welcome to FicCity! I'm Ike.

Ike: What's your name?

A/N-

Hello, welcome to the author's note! I'm Emma.

Laugh.

That was a joke.

I made a but of a longer chapter for you now, but just a warning: I'm posting another super short one next :)

I'm debating on whether or not I should wrap this story up shortly (which I could) or keep it going for a while longer (which I also could). Opinions?

And also I'd like to bless your sweet soul for actually reading the author's note :)

Much much love,

-Em