It reminds me of a recurring dream I used to have as a child. I fell in love in my sleep when I was maybe about seven or eight. I can't remember exactly. There was a girl I met in a field. This may sound vague but when we were kids we spent a good deal of our time in fields. I don't exactly remember how we spent out time together but we both knew that it'd be a great deal of time before either of us saw the other. She gave me something. Something to remember her by and something that would help me find her. That morning, when my mother woke me up for school, the first thought through my head was to look in my clenched fist. Needless to say there was nothing there. I spent some time that morning in a panicked, desperate, sad state tearing through my sheets trying to find it.
I would have these dreams every year or so. Twice in a good year. And every year we were both a little older. Every time was brand new. I remember how my heart would sink in the morning as I'd slowly realize that I'd only been in my bed the whole night. I remember how hard it was to get up. How hard I would try to go back to sleep. How badly I wanted to trade this world for that. The days between dreams grew in numbers. It's been since I was in my mid teens since I've had one.