Some mornings, before I let myself wake up, the dream holds on for a few more minutes.
It is a strange conspiracy my head has. I am lucky to wake up in this life. But some days I don’t want to.
In some dreams, you are a cliff and I am running fast through the woods, straight toward a sharp ledge where water is cascading down hundreds of feet below, and as I near it, with all my adrenaline rushing through my ears, I jump off without hesitation.
Because, you are the cliff.
And you are the sky.
And I know you are safe for me to jump into.
There is a moment suspended in mid-air where the entire world seems to freeze, holding its breath as yet another tiny creature leaps into nothing, perhaps a little too confident that love can carry, and not questioning if it would or not.
I would like to be like that always.
But I always wake up.
And I remember that I have never been that brave in my entire life.