Last night I watched a movie because I thought the actor in it reminds me of him.
I know it's not completely true. I love him. ....... Although I don't love the person he is now , I love what he meant to me. An idea of him. And I also know that the idea is far from the real , live him in flesh and blood.
The real him is an asshole, I have no doubt about it. But the idea of him that had grown in me, perhaps a figment of my overactive imagination strips him off all the assholery and presents his best self to me.
And it feels like I can breathe only when the idea of him is kept alive inside a corner of my mind and animated outside of it occasionally(by keeping in contact with the real him, may be). Whenever I try to kill him in me by shutting out the thoughts completely, I can feel myself cut of from my oxygen supply.
But then I wonder how can an asshole be so nice. I remember all the good things about him, us... And I think only the idea of him in me can collate or make sense of the good memories and best of times we had shared.
I know it's not healthy. I am not sure how long I can go on like this. And how far...