Reality

I walk out the door, into my car, to his house. Him. The most handsome gentleman a woman could ever want. And he’s mine. And I’m his. I look in the rear-view mirror. Staring at my eyes. There was not much traffic in Chicago today, which is weird. I pull into the coffee shop, and buy a coffee- salted caramel macchiato. His favorite. I say bye to Mae, my favorite barista, and head out the door. Fifteen minutes more of driving ahead of me.

Pulling into the driveway, I take a sneaky sip of the still-warm coffee I got him. I knock on the door to see his mom yelling at her husband.

He rushes me to his room where we climb out the window, onto the roof, the coffee in his hand. We stargazed until midnight where we just talked about nothing and everything, problems, and feelings. I loved him so much, and I was glad to call him mine. He wrapped his warm jacket around me and leaned in to put his arm around my waist. I nuzzle my head into his shoulder, broad and muscular. He tells me, “god, i’m so in love with you. I never want to leave your side, and I will never let you be alone, sad, mad, or frustrated. I’ve got you.”

“I love you.”

Then I woke up.

(part two coming soon on trash66669.blogspot.com)