Approproately enough: The Smiths
So for the first time, in a long time, I woke up believing what I had dreamed was real.
The disappointment I felt was more than momentary, but in a way I was glad.
It started at the end. The boy who had loved me, and whom I loved back at one stage or another, had died, and I was contacted by his tearful sister, incoherent over the dream phone.
And then I went back, a memory within a dream, and saw how it all happened.
And it seemed so real, so honest, so lovely.
Except for the break-dancing. That was just odd.
It was like a backwards romance novel, and something changed.
Full disclosure: I've never been in love.
But maybe I'm becoming more open to it.
It turns out, I believe in love.
That's a Sunday revelation for you.
Maybe I'm not as dead inside as I say I am.
Plus, he was pretty smoking hot, even by my dream standards.