"your head is always above the clouds," they said, they told me it was a good thing, i was a dreamer, I am a dreamer, and I lived my life happily thanks to dried ink on paper, thanks to movies
that showed me nothing but how "true love" is supposed to feel, I always loved the feeling of never caring too much about what was going on in my life, but then again, what was really going on? Found myself lost when I had to deal with things called real-life emotions, and real-life problems but mostly real life itself, everything seemed so foreign to me, why is life based on choices? Why can't I have it all? But mostly how do some people actually get it all? Good grades, pretty face, love, and happiness? Was it because they always cared about life? Is it because I travel too much with my thoughts that I find myself thinking I'd rather be in the arms of a fictional character than in a math class?
I think it is, so I slowly faded away from the illusion of a perfect life, coming face to face with my actual life, I wasn't some pretty girl with perfect hair and sky-like blue eyes you could drown in, I had coal-black eyes nobody would look at sincerely, I didn't have good grades and mostly nobody cared about me, I found myself weirded out by the monstrosity of people surrounding me, but often I had a fear I never had in my dreams: the fear of losing people, the people I cared for, the people I thought would have dreamt the same dreams as I and the people I hoped loved me unconditionally like people in my perfect hallucination.
They probably don't care for me as my imaginary people did but maybe, just maybe, they think of me at least once on a normal rainy day, thinking about how much I love the rain, or maybe they think of me when they see a book, or perhaps they thought of annotating a book just out of pure pleasure for me. But again, who am I fooling?
Letters are considered things for old people and the rain just reminds them of how they can't hang out with their other friends, nobody actually thinks of how much at that exact moment I was having the best time of my life looking at each droplet fall from the glass of my bedroom window and thinking of how each sound, each storm, and each light turned on in dark houses made me feel so alive.
I was probably asking for too much, I'll just start getting used to "what's up" texts and just forget how everything felt much better in my head.
