He’s a good dream you’re awoken from. The feeling of him is an everlasting state of joy and relaxation but any definitive memory of him is hard to remember. And I knew the moment I first hugged him, that his presence in my life was undeniable and unmistakable. I craved him like a kid craved new toys, always wanting more, never happy with what I had. Subtle touches to let me know he was there, yet never showing he really cared to the world that existed out there. Out of the conversations, we had, out of the memories we made, out of the soft whispers asking me if I was okay, I was lost to what he was to me. Yet, he easily became from a want to a need. Days without him seemed incomplete, days without having him know he loved me were bleak and soon the fear that he was becoming something more, something I hadn’t expected him to be, began to consume me.  Trying to walk away from him was tougher than I’d imagined it to be, for every time I tired, he’d finally let me know how much he needed me like I needed him. But I was doomed to be his little secret forever, an escape from the reality he lived in otherwise, someone out of that world. Someone he claimed he could be himself with, someone he felt safe with. And I believed him. I loved him and alas I was wrapped around his every whim. And just like a good dream, it didn’t matter what it entailed, all that mattered was the feeling it provided me with, and with him next to me, I felt alive and free.