Moment | Sara Staheli

It took all of four seconds to figure out I'd been dreaming. It hadn't been real. But what's real, anyway? Is it what I see and touch, or what I feel? I wasn't sad enough to cry or even to consider it. The streetlight through my blinds made very linear designs on my bedsheets. I was there, I know I was there. And you were with me. And now ... what? The light on my sheets? My blue pillow? My roommate sleeping six feet away? I remembered that in the daytime, I'm actually pretty happy. I love everything about everything, even my lack of you. So how come not at night? I retraced the broad outlines of the dream - the tornadoes, the kiss, the tone of your voice. And then I wished for morning.