Twilight in the backdrop of the dark, shadow-filled town square. Not a sound can be heard but for the minute last minute drops of the recent storm. A car rolls casually past, its headlights blazing. Then, as quickly as it came, it has left, and the darkness reclaims it rightful place, filling it with contortions of nothing at all. The shops, most of them now closed; cast strange and haunting shadows across the side-walk. Yet there is something, alluring about this otherwise empty square. As though some grand or momentous event had occurred here in the past. I paced the hard gravel, lost in my otherwise peaceful thoughts.

Do you know what it feels like, loving someone because she’s the only person you can? Do you know what it feels like to have wanted, longed for a love that you thought would never come? She touched me in a way no one else could. She’s given me as much as I’ve given her, and more. She’s the only one that’s ever cared for me, ever loved me for who I am. She’s the only one that ever could.

The first time I met her, I knew I was wrong for her. All my life I’ve watched other couples, their arms around each other, wrapped up in their own world. I’ve seen the extravagant gifts and romance-filled nights in the town. I knew I could give her none of that. But she saw me in a different light. My love for her was one I could not resist, and so I gave myself fully to her. Besides, it wasn’t like I could do anything else.

The blare of a horn in the distance tore me from my philosophical musings. It was this very spot that we had our first date. Our favourite haunt. I was so worried for her, the first time we met in public. They would stare at us, well, they would stare at her actually, but she never seemed to care. I glanced at the watch-store nearby. It was still early, so it wouldn’t hurt to go have a little look around the shops. After all, no one really ever noticed me anyway. It wasn’t as if some police officer was going to come up to me and say, “Gee sonny-boy, what are you doing out here so late?” I laughed at the sheer absurdity of the thought. I was inspecting a strangely familiar necklace in a jeweller’s display when I heard the crunch of the gravel somewhere ahead of me. I quitted the store and there she stood, with her back towards me. My heart began to beat in a familiar semi-quaver tempo as I crept up to her.

I raised myself to my full height and crossed my arms behind her. My lips curled upwards in a smirk that I knew she hated, waiting for her to turn around. Her head turned and I found her, quite literally, staring at me. “Hey, I missed you.” I waited with that same smile on my face. Two seconds passed. Three, four then five. I looked into her eyes the way I knew she loved. She stared blankly back at me as though I wasn’t there.

“Di,” I said, confused, “It’s me.” She continued to stare ahead as though I wasn’t there. For a moment I thought she was joking.

“Earth to Diana, earth to Diana,” at this point my smile was beginning to falter, “Do we have a loose circuit up there or something?” I said, raising my finger to tap against her forehead. I stopped and I realised, everything I’ve been dreading day after day after day had finally come true. She couldn’t see me.

Two weeks have passed. I gaze over her bed as she lies in the bionic, whitewashed ward. It’s all my fault. I knew I was wrong for her, I knew it wouldn’t work. I knew, deep down that someday reality, at least her reality would catch up with us. To her world, I was a dream, possibly even a nightmare. To the psychiatrist, I was a figment of her under-used imagination. I cast my mind back to when they took her away.

Her mother approached her with a pair of heavy-set men in white coats at either side. “Diana dear, I think it’s time you get some help,” she said, trying to instil some form of empathy in the girl we both loved. “Mom,” she started, defensively, “I’ve told you a million times, I don’t need help. He’s real. He’s out there somewhere, you just can’t see him. No one else can.” She glanced at the men behind her mother. “I’m not crazy mom, hello; this is your daughter we’re talking about.” The next thing I knew, she was being dragged away, and there was nothing I could do. I hated every minute of it, I’ve never felt so helpless in my life, helpless to save her, helpless to love, helpless to even exist.

And now here I am, watching over her in her bionic white room. Watching over her and the cruel tubes sticking out of her. It kills me to see her this way. Every now and then I see her lips moving slowly, breathing my name as though it would somehow allow her to see me again. I would give everything, just to have one minute with her, to tell her that I love her, and that it didn’t matter if she couldn’t see me. I would always love her. I would give everything to have that one minute with her, but I can’t. And for now, all I can do is watch over her, and here I’ll be, for the rest of my days, waiting, hoping, praying for that one small chance that she might ever see me again.