love

It starts slow. Eyes drifting shut. The silence in your room wrapping around you like a blanket you didn’t ask for.

And then… you’re there.

They’re there.

That person you’ve never met, but somehow love more than anything you’ve ever touched in the real world. Their hand is warm in yours, their voice is soft but sharp enough to cut through all the noise in your head. Every look they give you tells you one thing: you’re safe here.

The dream feels endless. You walk with them, laugh with them, fall into their arms like you were made for it. The world around you glows in colours you’ve never seen while awake. You don’t care if it’s fake — it’s yours in this moment.

But dreams don’t last.

The warmth begins to drain away. The air grows colder, heavier. Their hand starts to slip from yours, and no matter how hard you hold on, their fingers vanish like smoke. They’re still speaking, but you can’t hear the words. You scream for them to stay — but the sound dies in your throat.

And then… your eyes open.

Dark room. Cold air. Empty hands.

The silence is louder than the dream ever was. Your chest aches, not from missing them, but from knowing they never existed. It’s a hollow kind of pain — the kind that makes you wonder if the dream was showing you love…

or just reminding you how cruel it is to live without it.

You close your eyes again. Not to sleep — but to run.

Because reality isn’t enough anymore.