an unvarnished fiction.

"It was a beautiful thought", she said and looked away, then straight back at me. "I wish it could have lasted. "

"Things are only what you make of them", I answered, knowing that no matter what I said, she was the one who was going to win this battle of words.

"You know very well that I am fully aware of that. And you also know why I chose to make this into what it has become. A dream, out of reach. "

"I know, I sighed and lowered my eyes."

"It was an unvarnished fiction, dear. Filthy and stained. They made you believe, to take you away from me. Trust me on this one. "

"I trust only you on this."