I would love him

When I found him he was simply a stranger.
Soon after, I found him as friend but stranger still.
And, without realising it, I began to love him quietly, as strangers love on a long train ride, I filled in the gaps in his story and loved him more for being incomplete.
He was a landscape with colours not yet painted in.
And when I told him that I longed to be his muse, he laughed and said, “I know.”
I laughed, too, because it was funny how I could so easily absolve him of any wrong-doing against me or my heart.
But “I know” is not the same as “me too” or “I’m honoured” or “you’re too kind” or even “thank you”.
I left with my head and my heart full of him, as sure that he would never love me as I was sure I would love him still.

Daily Prompt: Third Rate Romance

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