Alice may think

that I don't know

anything about love

and maybe I don't

but I know

how I feel

and I think that's important.

"You don't love me, Charlie."

But I do.

"At least not the way you think you do."

She leaves my room

to check her test.

She comes back to me

and I see it in her eyes.

She closes the test and puts it in her pocket

but remains at the door,

leaning on it's frame.

"You love the idea of me, Charlie."

As soon as the words leave her mouth

I know she is

more right

than wrong

and I wish she wasn't.

But I know Alice

like I know

the back of my own hand

because in truth

I don't know much about her

at all.

Alice is

my Wonderland

and she is

my Everything

and she is

nonexistent.

Or, rather,

nonexistence.

Fin.