You were in my dream last night.
Everything was better. Things were perfect. Better than perfect.
Then something tipped me off that I was dreaming, and I felt my heart sink and my stomach drop. I could feel myself start to wake up. I tried to fight it. I tried kicking and screaming and hanging on for dear life, but it was no use. I held on to every memory made and moment shared, even if it wasn’t what the world would call “real”. It was all too real for me.
How am I supposed to get by if I’m incessantly regressing in my sleep?
