I wonder if everything related to you exists for another, parallel reason of a perpendicular philosophy than the one I've convinced myself to think on the lines of.
I wonder if your perfection is directly proportional to my ability to see outside the box of 'you'.
I wonder if maybe... just maybe... my idealization of you, branches from the mere reason that I've never opened my eyes to anyone or anything else outside your world where I reside and wait for you when you're not around.
I wonder if someday I will be the box that someone will find themselves not being able to see, think, act and love outside of.
