My life revolves around this fantasy. I've created fantastical things, wonderful scenes. And each day I live in reality, I become less and less sane. I wait for my fantasy to become reality, to become my life. I have created the perfect life, the perfect dream. And when I realize that it will never exist, my heart cries on the inside. I sit alone on my bed, wondering if I can ever live up to what I have created. And what gets me the most, what hurts so terribly is that I cannot cry. I cannot shed a single tear, because although I may be in more pain than one could ever be in, I lack the ability. I feel as if I am lost to normality, lost to this vast universe. I have no one to console me, for I could never reveal this everlasting sorrow. And now, the only wish I have, aside from the realization of my fantasy, is that I may cry. I wish to flood the world with tears, to rid myself of this pain. I await this day, hoping that I will oneday have one to save me from it.