Our relationship is fiction. Created from nights spent dreaming of you, fabricating memories that will only serve to hurt me. Memories that fade with every rising sun, hiding away for the day, but continue to greet me each time I close my eyes. I see your face, etched into my subconscious, impossible to forget. Each night we meet I memorize your features. The curves of your body, your smile, the colors that dance in your eyes. Desperate to remember every detail. The anxiety of forgetting you is a dense fog that hangs over every interaction we have. A storm cloud that lurks in the sky on a perfect day, threatening and looming. The feeling leaves me terrified that our last embrace will truly be the last. So I keep writing chapters in this book meant just for me, because if you stop visiting me in my dreams, at least I will still have my counterfeit memories. Here’s to the next chapter, Dream Girl.











