"That kid's cute," I pointed out as we were sitting on the bus. There was a toddler with its mother sitting ahead of us.
"I guess," he commented. He glanced over uninterestedly.
"Do you like children?"
"Not really. They kind of scare me, to be honest."
"How?" I asked.
"They're unpredictable."
"Yeah, I guess so," I looked at him, "I'm assuming you're not a man who dreams of a family with three kids, a dog, and a white picket fence."
"That's oddly specific, but yes. I am not a man who dreams of those things."
"That's too bad."
"Do you want those things?" he asked, glancing at me.
"No, I think I'm destined for loneliness," I joked.
He didn't seem to question me and went back to looking forward. "What do you dream of then?"
He caught me by surprise. I never had someone ask me that question. "I don't know. I just want to be happy."
"That's easier said than done."
I sighed. "I know."
