Waking reality

Typically when morning comes and I roll over to my alarm clock going off, I’m pleased if I made it through the night without nightmares of someone with a chainsaw cutting up from underneath my bed or the angel of death standing at the foot of my bed or a dead woman dressed in 19th Century clothing who has hung herself from my ceiling.

But this morning was different. I had a really good dream for the first time I can remember in a long time, and I awoke to the sad realization that it was only a dream. What I dreamed of was something that could never happen in reality because it might be too perfect. It could be the missing piece. But since the realities of reality are much harsher and can’t be controlled simply by the firing of my synapses in a REM cycle, I guess I’ll just revel in that moment before I woke up until it also fades out of memory, as dreams will.