Our In Between

Prologue

Has anyone ever met The Grestest Daydreamer of all time?

Many might consider themselves worthy of such title, thinking it's some kind of prize. Fools, if they only knew! They'd quit the whole dreaming thing, right away. Ha! But lucky them, that title has already been given to someone, and that someone happens to be ME.

Wonderful, I made myself sound like a complete narcissistic arse within just a few lines. Just reading it makes me wanna kick myself with a chancla!! Anyway, I better rephrase that.

After years and years of delusional trips...I am almost sure, like 99.9% sure! that I am the Greatest Daydreamer of all time. It is necessary to stress on that humble 0.1% left, that's how much I give to the "benefit of doubt". Am I the Greatest Daydreamer or am I just absolutely bonkers? Who knows, I may be both. Either way, my head case needs further investigation. Hence why, a friend of mine adviced me to write down my insanity, but that's a story for another time. The aim of this whole diary idea is for me to "self-reflect", to explore my "inner desires" in order to get the clarity I've so much yearned for.

I really should just get over it. Turn the page, finish the chapter, close the book. But whatever, right? "try it!" She said. "What's the worse thing that could happen?" Well, I don't know, maybe get a few paper cuts? Honestly, she got a point, it's hardly life threatening. Besides, the more I avoid the subject, the worse I seem to get. So yeah, voilà, bought myself a brand new notebook and here I am, like a hopeless imbecile, writing...yey! I should call myself the greatest dumbarse instead, or greatest moron. In fact, Mum wouldn't disagree. She has always claimed that so "honourable" title was hand-crafted by God especially for me. Greatest Daydreamer or greatest moron is the same exact thing for her. What a joke, right? Mediocrity sounds a thousand times more honourable to me.

"My Lord, aren't you the greatest daydreamer?" her bells of Ireland like windows slightly opened, studying my lost expression. Serious, straightforward and convincing. She'd trick me, Every. Single. Time. No matter how many times that question had been asked in the past. She'd purposely pretend to be puzzled, which made me nervously look for "rational answers" inside my much emotional nutshell like brain. So, right there, in the middle of that neurotic disaster, the quest for answers would be put to an end by a sharp direct command: "Come down from cloudland, Señorita". Ohhh, those words worked like a charm! Such nice cold water bucket thrown over me. It immediately snappded me out my conundrum. As the years flew by, my reaction to it slowly evolved. From nervous to confused, from confused to offended and from offended to disappointed yet not surpised.

Moral of the story? The ignorants will always judge. Oh, and, never trust your mum. No bad blood with her though, her intentions are good. She just does what mums do: teach their children about the hard truths of life with cruel humour.

I've come to accept that Daydreamers are just a mockery to the world. So being the GREATEST one of them all is, indeed, the greatest freaking joke ever!

Right, sorry, let's cut the rambling and start from the top. My name is Ivy, a very average Spanish girl living a very much average life. Basically, I'm a damn walking cliché. I'm very much aware of it, at least I admit it. As the daydreamer's "alpha", I am the kind of person that utterly believes that life is far from average. Whoever we are, whatever we do and wherever we go, it doesn't matter. Life remains the most exciting and extraordinary adventure of all. Why is that a problem? Cause only fools live that way!

I am a dramatic, awfully loud, brilliantly clumsy, somewhat kind-hearted but quite plain, girl with a big pocket full of DREAMS. That disturbing wild-dreams magical pocket inside my head, had to make things harder for me, huh? It has defined me since the day I came into this world. I was probably cursed or something. Seriously, what the hell am I? A live-action version of Doraemon? That damn pocket has done nothing but bring more trouble than solutions.

I know, what must people think about my kind. "Giiiirl, stop it with all that positive vibe, it's making me sick" or "Oke, tell me now where's the fun on having to write four 3.000 word essay, due tomorrow?" or "What about poverty? hunger? Sickness?". The answer is: I have no clue, I ain't God. I've just always believed that there is something delightful on the simple fact that we exist. I can't help my damn positivity, it flows through my veins, like a river of glittery poison.

The popular belief says that we, daydreamers, refuse to acknowledge reality. As if our permanent residence was way up in the sky, among rosie fluffy clouds made of candy floss. Yet, it's quite the opposite. We don't only acknowledge reality, we also have the ability to see beyond it. We have the sight. We can easily switch off our minds and connect ourselves with what I like to call The In between.
A unique personal space, where imagination runs wild and free, where we can observe, feel and notice the unnoticable. Daydreamers are not just absent-minded people. We are the explorers of the unknown.

All the same, I must say, we cannot graps it all. We sense the In between, but we do not know anything about it. Its origin, its rules and its reasons of existence, belong in God's dearest box of mysteries.
What a wonderful way to mess with our heads and make our lives amusingly confusing!
So much so, that if we are not careful enough, from trip to trip, our sight grows stronger, the line between make-believe and reality start blending in without warning... and like quicksand we find ourselves trapped into the In Between, forever wondering if we are lost or found.

Maybe I should have noticed, but I guess no one is ever safe, not even the greatests. For it all started in a blink of a eye, the very first time I saw You.