I hate to seem disgruntled; all in all my life could be worse, but…
There was this girl, like an angel come to earth, never in my life had I seen someone so beautiful.
“You must be what god first imagined when he first dreamed of woman,” I told her, “because all other women are diminished in your presence. You are the all and everything that poets write of; you are the legendary beauty that drives men to war, that leads friends to betray. You, my sweetest dearest love, are why we men live. The sweetness of your breath, the tenderness of your touch, the music of your voice, drives me to distraction. In some ways, and I know this sounds sort of creepy, I can now die fulfilled, for I have seen the perfection of form and grace, and it is you.”
But since I’m imaginary she didn’t hear a word of it.
“You must be what god first imagined when he first dreamed of woman,” I told her, “because all other women are diminished in your presence. You are the all and everything that poets write of; you are the legendary beauty that drives men to war, that leads friends to betray. You, my sweetest dearest love, are why we men live. The sweetness of your breath, the tenderness of your touch, the music of your voice, drives me to distraction. In some ways, and I know this sounds sort of creepy, I can now die fulfilled, for I have seen the perfection of form and grace, and it is you.”
But since I’m imaginary she didn’t hear a word of it.