reminiscing something that never was

It was all just a dream... 

I begin to understand that there is a fairly good reason why I prefer sleeping to being awake- at times like these I occasionally dream of bliss. I did, last night. Images and vibes that made me wake up smiling like an idiot, a feeling of eternity and warmth that ties up a knot in the centre of my chest right now, while I'm remembering it, and makes me fight with tears. Because this light was just a figment of my subconsciousness, an unuttered yearning of my childish mind.

I will go to bed tonight with false hopes- you never dream twice the same, do you- and spend the rest of the evening feeling like a stone... a heavy, grey stone with an adamant core. Have you ever felt like you were going to explode and implode at the same time? Tense like a piano or a harp in a burning house, the very second before the strings burst and shred the whole construction into little pieces of useless wood... 

And all because of too much beauty to bear. Beauty in smiling company, in fooling around, in excitement, in the movement of that hand, in the nonchalant way it took mine, in the rustling of that jacket and it's cold surface. In the setting. In the comfort of things going perfectly right and a wish coming true. Thank you, superego, you made my morning and ruined my day and my evening, so thank you very, very much, indeed. 

People say one should find that comfort in the little things in life, but I find this slightly problematic: you don't see the moon when the earth's shadow covers it, and knowing it's there doesn't really help the darkness. But what is most frustrating: that dream will never, ever become reality. 

Good night.