You try to find a reason why fate would allow you to meet someone that you can never call your own. You try to ask why fate would allow you to feel what you shouldn't. You try to understand why it seems that fate is even giving you a sense of hope. You try to look into the myriad of possibilities. Maybe it's possible. Maybe it can happen. Maybe at some point you'd understand the reason why it all happened.
But that's just the half of it.
The other half is what truly matters because it is based on truth and logic. That you will never be together. That it's not fate at all that is leading you to where you are now. It is just you. Blinded by your own emotions and wishful thinking. The possibilities that you're hoping for are but just a figment of your imagination that you really wish so hard they are true, that it started to become your reality.
But through it all, you're allowing yourself to love. You're allowing yourself to get hurt. You're allowing yourself to feel. Because it is the closest you'll ever be in making your dreams and imagination a reality.
