A Beautiful Cliché

I don’t usually remember my dreams. Most days, I wake up and it’s a blank slate. No memories of ever going to dream land.

But I dreamt of you last night, of us. It was nice seeing your smile, feeling your touch, kissing your lips. Cliché, but I felt like it was real. I was touching your face, proclaiming my love and you smiled at me, saying back the words I have been hoping to hear.

I woke up, dazed and confused. You were right there, so close to me, I could almost touch you. But it was a dream, a figment of my imagination. It was nothing, only a mere reflection of all the hopes I had with us.

I was sucked back to reality and in this world, you and me are oceans apart. We are a mismatch pair of gloves, flawed and not meant to be.

I woke up, and now I know why the moon and the stars are for dreamers. It’s a beautiful cliché.


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