When I awoke, your eyes danced across my mind. I lay still for a moment, as images came in spurts that didn't make any sense but stirred a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I remember the way you looked at me, in that dream that felt so real that I thought it was. I heard your laugh, I saw your smile— how could it not have been real—?
Only when my alarm had gently started rousing me out of sleep, and when I opened my eyes to see the sun filtering through the window by my bed and my body all tangled in the sheets did I know by the uncomfortable twisting in my gut that it wasn't real. It probably never would be.
Because in my dream, you acted towards me like guys act in the movies. Our eyes kept meeting, your gaze kept falling on my lips, and I remember wishing with all my heart that you would kiss me. You engaged me, you were interested— you chased me. Your green eyes hypnotized me, and for once in my life, I felt beautiful, because you thought I was, and I wasn't fishing for your attention. I held your gaze and captured you by being me.
But all good things must come to an end— especially the ones that are too good to be true. So, body tangled in the sheets, and filled with desire, I rolled over, away from the sunlight, and closed my eyes again, chasing the world I just left with all that I had. I just wanted to feel your lips on mine, even if it wasn't real, but I always wake up before you can.
