Unattainable

For a while, I didn't realize how I have completely stopped writing about a particular person. Not out of deliberation, just sheer coincidence. God knows how hard I've tried to stop, but it had become an obsession--or rather, a weird hobby that involves a muse that will never get a thank you note, because he doesn't even realize how he's inspired so many writings, so many words, and countless of dreams. These days, I barely ever think about him. In fact, I barely ever think about anyone at all. The very idea that I could write about someone as much as I did of him is just beyond unthinkable. Not that I don't trust myself to ever find love again (was it even love?) but I just don't think I'd ever be... as naive, as green, and as nonchalant as I used to be. I was young--younger than I am today--and I just did it so effortlessly. Now that I'm older, I can barely see someone and not immediately pinpoint something about him that I don't like and won't tolerate. I may be incapable of love--after all, you know I'm a pusher in that I push everyone away. And I know I shouldn't... I just can't help it. I had to. Otherwise, I'd feel like I'd dissolve into a million molecules and cease to exist. What makes this person so interesting in the first place? I don't know. Please don't ask me such question, for I can't even get to the very idea why. We probably wouldn't get along very well anyway. I can even see myself and this person in another universe and even in there, I don't trust myself with him. Even in another universe, I couldn't do it. I wouldn't dare imagine that there will ever be a story, in any alternate universe in this vast and unexplored life, in which we could be together and live happily ever after. Nope. Not even in my wildest dream.