Dreaming of you.

Every time you cross my mind I have to snap my fingers and bring myself back to reality. I have to actively ground myself and repel the thought of you like a bad dream. Only it's not a bad dream, it's the perfect one. The kind of dream you wake up smiling from. The kind of dream where you're mad when you wake up before the story ends. That's how I feel about us. I'm mad that we got woken up before the story even had a chance to begin. There were so many blank pages left to be written. So I have to keep trying to convince myself there is a valid reason for us not working out, despite the fact that we both desperately wanted it to. But if it was meant to be, it would have been. And it wasn't. So whilst I banish you from the depth of my awaken conscious mind, please let me go back to sleep. The dream wasn't over yet.