He thinks he is armed. Full of bullets of ideas, chauvinism, chivalry and what not. He likes to be treated as a hero. Limitations do not exist for him. He is like the bird that returns only on will, never otherwise. How I wish I could tell him that every part of his ideal dreams is nothing but fiction. How I wish I could tell him, some wishes bring sorrows and the only way to avoid being sad is to forget them with a smile.
He keeps on looking for random keys that could connect him back to the lost wish. He appears, so determined, as if nothing is impossible. Reality would strike him one day but love, my love, doesn't want that to happen. For I am happy to see him like he is: lost in the dilemma of truths and lies. Sailing courageously for an island that does not exist,
I like him this way. He is ignorant of the truth, not unaware of it. But his hope reminds me of someone so similar... me. I wish I could blindly trust some wrong things, some wrong people, just because I love them so much, even after knowing they would fail me one day. I knew those people would fail me, hence I feared loving them. But this man loves, the way people are to be loved. Always without fear, he loves them despite the truths and lies.
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