Every night I go there, some place that's warm and inviting, and while it feels that it's home, I wake up never quite knowing what I've seen. It's some sort of blur, the darks and the lights smearing themselves into this one large splotch of something.

And this is the place I wake up from every night reaching out for memories of I place I've never seen. And the feeling of utter hopelessness is inexpressible as I sit there, chest heavy with some indescribable emotion. The feeling's just as swirled up and hazy as my dream world. The world which is the place where I feel I truly belong but can never reach.

And for some unknown reason, you're always there, looking at me through eyes I never can quite read so I label them as blank. I hate to tell you this, but you're nothing special. So when you first showed up every night, you surprised me. You're easily forgettable and with not seeing you for a while I thought you'd disappear from my mind completely. And you did for a while. I didn't want you to know, but some things must be said, however painful they might be.

And, not knowing quite else what to do and feeling so very desperate at that point, I clung to you like you were some unshakeable force in the midst of all this madness. I was sure at that point you were the key to my home, my faraway place made from memories that weren't mine. And little by little, it seemed to work.

It began after I first saw you again. When I first took your hand in mine and set my eyes on your beautifully ugly face after all this time, the world became my unclear mess and I loved it. And the more I was around you, the more I saw my world, so I treated you like a lover and you treated me as a friend who you would only let in so far before I could get the chance to truly know you. Sadly enough, I suppose, I knew this and didn't care. I knew that if you asked me what I knew about you, beyond physical appearances, there wasn't too much I could say. I didn't care though, and maybe you liked it better that way.

Maybe I should have been worried about how the line between reality and my dreams were slowly becoming indistinct. Perhaps I should have been, but I wasn't. I don't know if you noticed there was something wrong, but perhaps you were like me, and just didn't care.

I wonder if you ever realized I was using you. And then I wonder how you could being that I never told you about the dreams and all. It's the home you'd never see except in my dreams, some sacred unknown shrine for me and me alone. I kept you away from there like you kept me away from knowing you.

But ah, so quick bright things come to confusion! Shakespeare was right in saying that, for as soon as I reached my world, you left. And you, the key to the world I couldn't reach, the one who lead me in reality to my dreams just went away. I suppose it was as if you were there one day and the next you were gone, as if you never were. You simply... vanished, for lack of a better word. And it affected me in a way you'll never know.

It's like the world came crashing down after that and many hours were spent wasted in the corners of dark rooms with my head in my hands and a feeling of misery that made me feel so old and dead and gone.

And what's it like now after you left? I still wake up every morning, with the dreams dancing just out of reach of my outstretched fingers and the unknown emotion heavy in my chest.

And you know what? It's like waking up every morning only to discover you died the night before.

Author's Note: Wow, sudden inspiration at three in the morning. It's a good thing though, I guess. Ah, I'm a little sleepy now. I couldn't get to sleep until 6:30 am. Oh well. Do you want to make me really happy? Review then please! Thanks for reading!