Ive often found myself lying awake at night wondering if the girl of my dreams was out there somewhere waiting for me to find her. Ive thought about her a lot. Id wonder what she was doing at that moment; if she was laying in bed thinking about me, or if she was rowing with her husband, dreaming of the day when something better would come along. Sometimes Id think of her making love, enjoying herself, abandoning all her inhibitions, becoming intoxicated with lust.
Suddenly shes in the arms of her lover. Shes making love to him while Im here all alone, yet Im the one that could really love her and she doesnt even realise it. Why doesnt she know? Why is she staying with that arsehole when Im out here?
I have to stop myself there. Its hard not to get jealous and work myself up into a temper. Yes, I know, she might just be a figment of my imagination, but I still love her. I know it sounds silly, but Ive lived my whole life with her a dozen of times over. Ive met her, wed her, settled down, had children, grown old and died with her all in the space of a sleepless night. Its a sad state of affairs to be in love with a phantom. You end up doing all manner of strange things to her in an effort to prove to her how much you love her. Ive given mine leukaemia and brain tumours and all sorts before just so I could bowl her over by shaving my head as a mark of solidarity while she went through the chemotherapy. She loved me for that! And its not just illness Ive inflicted on her. Ive taken her through wars and back to show her just how much she means to me. Ive had her stabbed, shot, beaten up, crippled, horribly burnt and even gang-raped before now, all in the name of love.