My day goes on. The same old boring routine. Get out of my bed, take a bath, brush my teeth, get dressed, make breakfast, have breakfast and be off to work for another stressful day.
Sometimes I wish I would be asleep forever so I could be with him all the time.
What was his name?
Did he ever mention it?
What was last nights dream about though?
He said he was real. He told me to wait for him if I believe him.
Should I believe him?
Is he really real?
No. I have to face reality. And the reality is, he is nothing but a product of my imagination. My loneliness. My longing to be with someone. To be held, talked to and loved like he does to me every night.
I am a twenty-three year old man. I don't have the time to be wallowing about someone from my dreams.
He does not exist.
The atmosphere around me became sullen. Damn, why do I feel so weak.
...
I never dreamt of him ever since then.
