[ WP ] You are a schizophrenic maddeningly in love with the man/woman of your dreams . But you 're becoming increasingly unsure if she 's real , or just another hallucination .

I remember the first time I saw her. How could I ever forget? I had made it a habit to frequent a certain coffee shop. You know the kind, with the wood tables and the baristas who seem to have a uniform of v-necks, skinny jeans, and a beard fit for a lumberjack. I went there to get out of the house, but also because I liked the atmosphere. I felt like I could sit there, pretend to read whatever pseudo-intellectual book I happened to have in my possession, and just observe. You start to notice things about people. For instance, I noticed that the floral purse lady proferred to sit in the corner on her Mac, where people could n't see that she was n't writing the next breakthrough novel, but was in fact just sitting on Facebook. Or how waxed mustache man would take a different girl to the coffee shop every week in hopes of impressing them with his knowledge of coffee beans. This became my routine to the point where I could recognize all the regulars, even though I knew none of them by name, nor did I have a desire to. That is, until I saw her. 
 
 
 The first thing I noticed about her was her auburn hair. Maybe it was just where she was sitting, but the way the sunlight hit it almost made it seem like the light was radiating out from her. Her hair was pushed to one side, so I could see that she had a stylistic tattoo of a rose on the left side of her neck. She seemed like something you'd see in a museum, sitting there in the corner reading a book. The scene in front of me looked so serene, it seemed like a crime to disturb it. But I had to say something. I knew how misquotes drawn to a lamp felt, being totally sure of my impending demise but being totally unable to resist. I could n't tell you what my first words were. They probably hardly resembled words at all. All I can tell you is that whatever I said made her smile the most innocent, trusting, and beautiful smile I've ever seen. She said her name was Amber. And that's when I knew I was hers. 
 
 
 I was on medication for a while. The hallucinations started my first year of college. They started simply enough, with hearing friends call my name and seemingly disappearing right after. Then I thought I had bed bugs, even though no one could find any in my bed. Then the paranoia set in, and I began to think that my roommate was plotting to turn everyone I knew against me. I ended up dropping out of college and seeing a doctor, who told me that I had a family history of schizophrenia. I took the medication he prescribed for a while, even though it made me feel like a zombie. The last day I took it was the day I met Amber. 
 
 
 The first couple months were fantastic. We went everywhere and did everything together. I shared my love of photography with her, and we went on weekend camping trips to escape from the city. It all seemed like life was falling into place. But then I started to notice little things. For instance, when we'd go to a restaurant together, the waiters and waitresses would always ask me for what I wanted and leave me with the bill. I understand that the guy normally pays the bill, but I thought we were in the 21st century here? Then I began to notice that no one seems to talk to Amber. Questions and statements are always directed at me. People seem to give me weird looks when I talk or hold hands with her too. Or maybe that's just my mind playing tricks on me? That seems to be happening a lot recently. I'll hear voices even when I'm alone. I just hope that at least one of them is real.
