Kings and queens of the society see themselves as the true idol; that all others should bow down at their feet. They pretend that there is no god to live by, no rules they have to oblige, and no one greater to be seen upon. Everyone wants to touch them or been seen by them. Just one second of eye contact would set the peasant's heart to rest for eternity. Who has the right to call themselves famous? Does it matter if you have talent or looks, or even money to blow on useless materials? Or does it matter how the “fan” sees you through their eyes?

You wake up hours before me in the morning, getting ready for work. Or maybe it was because you never really slept the night before, for I am the reason. The phone is in your hands, being tossed and turned over and over again while you ponder the thought of what happened. You wait for me to wake up and call you, but I don't so you were expeditious to send me a “good morning text” for when I do ascend.

Hours fly through the day, many more soar during the night, and all of them were filled with your laughter. I spend my day living my life with you in my remembrance. Your name is the only thing I want to see on my phone, and when it's not, I simple twiddle my thumbs until it is. You have given up so much for me just so you can say you were there. I break down and you are on your knees beside me, arm around my shoulder. When I need an ear to talk off to, you have no problem doing so, even late at night. No one understands the sorrows or joys I have felt like you...because you made them both.

True, people tell me this is probably just a waste of my time. To be stuck to someone so utterly. But then again, was I not told the happiness is the key to life? Well, who says I cannot have my own ways of being jubilant? They may find happiness in the art of other things, but the only thing I want is waking up and seeing your face. They scold me, saying one day I will regret all of this. I just smirk when I remember that I have no regrets when I am happy. They lived their life, they may have lusted for other ways to live in their youthful years, but as of now, I am perfectly happy.

I want you to myself, all to myself. We met once before, and by some cruel fate we were separated. Time has passed when the gods saw your depressed state and sent you an angel to fix you right up. I stayed by your side through thick and thin like you have stayed by mine, without a doubt. I cannot speak for you, but those days will always have their articulation in my thoughts. Like the day you made me yours. No, not the day you asked me to BE yours, but the day I gave you my heart. It was unintentional but not, in the slightest manner, unwillingly.

I fell in love with you. Don't ask me why, because I cannot describe how I feel love. I'm sorry, but the words that escape my lips or leave my fingertips will never be able to tell you how much you mean to me like the way my actions can. You may sit there on nights when I am talking with you, marveling over the fact that I would give you my time. Why do I deserve your time, you ask, when you are an idol to many and I am nothing but 'me'?

A serf is what I am for you, my queen. You tell me to jump and I ask how high. Nothing can make me want you less and everyday makes me want you more. The hours you work are excruciating for me. I know I should accomplish something in the time but the only thing I really do is wait for you to come home.

Home, yeah, it sounds amiable to the naked ears. But for ours, it doesn't exist without the other. I want a house to come home to with you awaiting with out reached arms. Now, that, I could call home. But when you live there, and I live here, nothing seems to exist. My day dreams grow with each second about how amazing it must be to feel your skin and breath the air you breath. Our eyes would meet once and only once, because my dear, they would never leave each other again. Just like our fingers could never be pried away once they locked on tight.

For eternity is what I would like to imagine. Our passion for each other will never die, not as long as we are alive. My nightmares only come when you are in pain and once we met, nothing will hurt you again, this I swear. Riches can by most everything, but if I had only one dime to spare, I'd give it the homeless because your breath is what I live for. Nothing makes my body ache like when you call my name and I can't run to you. I promise you, that will never happen again. I have one life, and if it must come down to it, I wouldn't think twice to loan you it.

My blood runs through my veins, but stops for a beat when you say words that I don't want to hear from anyone else but you. I have passion for things people might not understand. People don't want me to pursuit a life long career in something I could not live another happy day with. They accept my differences and accept my wishes. They accept my need to be happy and know they cannot tell me what does and does not make me want to live. God could strike me dead this second, and they know they had no power of who I want and who I love, and this I write to you. Jenna Marie Dose, you and only you, can make me smile with the slimmest of endeavor.