Mystic

And today was almost so perfect. And my dreams swelled into great glass bubbles... Shimmering snow-globes of sugar and gold. Rosy cheeked babies and water black as ink and gently creaking wooden docks, the air full of the smell of coal... And what beauty filled my imagination! And he said we'd never afford a home on the water or the boat which rocks my sadness to sleep, or the fringed lamps or silk upholstered chairs with antique angels smiling from shelves above. Looking down with gleaming amethyst eyes...

And it's not that I care about money, or about any of it as much as I love him... It's just that i care about hope. And why must I say that Ill give up all of my dreams? Of course, I would, will... I most likely will... But why doesn't he want to give up his hope for mine?

If the water makes my eyes sparkle, why isn't it worth it to him to try? Why must I never live my poetry for which my heart aches with all its being? I know that the only way to have my dreams is to earn them myself...

I see an unbridgeable gulf between us. And when tears rose, he spat in annoyance.

I must be strong...

Dream alone.
Stand alone.
Achieve alone.

Remain alone.