Wonderful Nothings

You touch me in ways that still give me hope,
softly brushing my hand in a way I imagine you holding me.
You look deeply into my eyes just like you wanted me.
I am fooling myself.
We both know it.
It is better for me to live in my imagination then your reality.
I find myself willing you to love me.
I know the damage to myself.
I realize it every time you leave.
You don't think of me when I'm not standing in front of you.
I understand your feelings but their nonexistence doesn't matter to me.
You are gentle with me and I thank you.
You say kind words to me, sweetly whispering wonderful,
nicely telling me you desire nothing at all.