We would be the perfect couple.
I would wake up by your side and admire you peacefully sleep for a bit longer.
You would keep snoozing until gentle sunlight cutting through the curtains would coax you out of your dreams.
We would start our mornings with a kiss on the lips and a smile. The scent of freshly grounded coffee would welcome us to our modern kitchen. Everything would be shining silver and clean: no dust, no rust nor dirty oily surfaces. It would look exactly like an advertisement picture in a trendy magazine.
And the food would be gorgeous, just like your smile. Sausages and bacon would give you strength for the day, while cereals and fruit would give me the correct sugar rush to face way-too-many hours away from you.
We would part with another kiss, and a hug. We would do so on the door as I promptly fail to find the keys in my pockets only to have you come to my rescue. My chevalier, my dearest other half.
I would bid you good-bye and wish you a good day at work and you would reciprocate from your flashy sportive car. I would then walk to the nearby bus stop, only ten steps away, enough to make me miss you already. I would send you a text: "Waiting." To let you know I am waiting, for the bus, but also for the next time I will see you.
I would jump on the vehicle, heart drumming in my ears as I await for you answer, which I know I will certainly get once you reach your office. "Arrived." You would say and my heart's symphony would pause for a second.
I'd enter the tube thinking of you, unaware of the people staring at my dreamy expression and my unkempt hair: it would be messy as you love to ruffle it.
I would sit at my desk and sip my chai latte at 11am, matching yours.
I would message you at lunch break, "Love you."
And you would reply, "Love you too, sweetheart."
I would hurry on the streets leading back home at 5pm and you would be there at 6 o'clock to have dinner together. I'd cook for you and you would compliment my food – without exceptions.
I would bake you cakes and use you as a comfy pillow to watch movies. I would steal all of you chips while claiming to be on a diet. I would hug you in bed and employ you as my own personal radiator.
You would remember all of our dates. You would never forget my birthday, nor our anniversary. You would show up with roses and a red letter on Valentine's day, and I would be waiting for you with chocolate and sweet promises.
We would go on the longest and most romantic journeys together. We would run into endless wheat fields holding hands. We would jump onto merry-go-round horses and sing to the starts until our lungs go dry.
You would take me to theatre and I would kiss you to the mellifluous notes of a piano. I would kiss you for ages and forever, taking away your breath with my thirsty mouth. You would pull my hair and I would entangle our fingers, seeking contact with you.
I would make sure to whisper your name into the darkest nights when I lie alone in bed. As you would call out for me from the distance and remind me of your love. "I love you." I would repeat in echo.
We would be the perfect couple.
But my psychiatrist says that you do not exist.