The first coherent thought I had after I wake up. "I can not believe I still dream of you." Words clear, precise. As a burden. Or like something incredible. My earliest memories of you shall go back to my second grade. Centuries as it was when only 30 years. The last time I saw you must climb to 10 or even 12 years. Centuries again. But the truth is that you stick to me like a second to the subconscious skin. I dream of you so often. You're the only person that haunts all my nights. You have the same face I knew you. A man looks a little kid. I do not see what you are really become. I know it and it's already too much. I prefer you as before, or better than before actually.
I do not know what it is. The ephemeral girl who is bored? An instinct that will not die? There was nothing between us. Well as some trivial anecdotes that I can tell by heart. I collect them. It is a pearl necklace that I put in which I sometimes feel so comfortable. Nothing. Really nothing.
In my dreams, we find ourselves. It's natural. I did not look shocked. I'm not shocked. Yet that is what would happen if I ever meet you. But in these dreams, I act normally. We speak. We got acquainted. We feel there's something rumbling beneath our skins. Our eyes are games of seduction. Very little. But you're here. Always. In my dreams. You come back again and again. I always felt that life would be lenient. I think I dreamed. I know I've dreamed of. I have seen too many Hollywood movies. Fortunately, no one can take away my dreams. They are my burden, they are my incredible.
