On the first day,
I silently beamed as she walked past,
and she returned my gaze with a shy smile. 
We locked eyes for a moment –
you could maybe call it love.

On the second day,
I quietly asked her to join me for dinner,
and she scribbled out a number in her graceful script.
We exchanged a friendly laugh –
you could maybe call it love.

On the third day,
I frivolously dreamed of our meeting together,
and she excited my thoughts with her secretive glances.
We brushed against each other gently throughout the day –
you could maybe call it love.

On the fourth day,
I closely studied her patterns,
and she batted her eyelashes to match her delicate nature.
We blushed and exchanged our feelings –
you could maybe call it love.

On the fifth day,
I scrupulously planned our meeting,
and she agreed to the supposed time.
We held hands and were unashamed –
you could maybe call it love.

On the sixth day,
I expertly purchased three red roses,
and she cherished them with all her heart.
We embraced each other and said our evening goodbyes –
you could maybe call it love.

On the seventh day,
I officially proposed to her,
and she sobbed out a happy yes.
We lived together and started a family –
you could maybe call it love.

On the eighth day,
I groggily woke up in the morning,
and she was not there to greet me.

For I had fallen in
love with someone
of my own creation, and
she simply does not exist.