What’s wrong with me?
I fall in love with the women I create in my stories! No mere infatuations either, I fall deep and hard.
Charlotte, for instance. My beautiful ghost.
Sadie: feral, loyal, lost.
They hover around me, gorgeous, ethereal, loving, loved.
The three of us, we’re a Paradise together, our world an Eden of harmonious existence and perfect love.
But is it possible to truly love someone who isn’t real?
Maybe they are real, I’ve created them?
Or maybe I've created nothing.
Maybe none of us exist: maybe I, too, am just another creation of someone else’s imagination?