Conversation

You always keep talking about hopes and wishes, and how you feel life’s too boring if you stop dreaming. You don’t like reality all that much do you? So how are you sure when/if your dreams ever do come to realise, you won’t end up hating them too?
I laugh at your silly doubts. You’re silly. That’s what I’ve always liked about you so much and you don’t think before you speak. So everything that you say, is unfiltered. Innocent and honest. I think about the days when we first began talking and I laugh again. You look towards me, questioningly. Slightly embarrassed but trying desperately to hide it.
I tell you that the reason I hold onto my dreams so firmly is because I know that they’ll never cross the barrier which separates imagination from reality. Then I try to explain to you how my dreams seem so pretty yet also fragile in my mind, but you fail to understand. And I understand that it’s difficult to understand. Because I was never good at talking my feelings out to somebody. And then you understand. So you go back to reading your half way finished novel and I come back, to wake up.

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