Dreams

I don’t usually remember my dreams when I wake up, but my dream about you were surreal. They felt more like reality then dreams. I could feel your every touch, your every nudge and your warmth.

I don’t quite like feeling something so real; it felt that the line between reality and dreams were blurred. It felt so good, too good. But when I wake up, I get even sadder than I was before. Not because it was a dream, but it was a reminder that you’ll never be mine, not unless in a dream.

You’re a dream, and for every 11:11, I wish so hard for you to be reality.