Reality, Nightmare, Dream, Love

There is a part of me that hates reality because I’m different. Well, everybody is, except I’m the kind of different that most of the people around me find problematic and therefore don’t like because what sets me apart makes me difficult to understand and deal with. I move so peculiarly that it’s hard to exactly describe how, I speak about even the simplest of things with pauses and stutters, I don’t always maintain eye contact, I’m almost always somewhere else whenever and wherever I’m somewhere, and to follow my own train of thought means to go against almost everyone else’s.

Because of my eccentricity, that I had almost given up on one of my dreams – finding a girl who will understand, accept, and love me for who I am, for in reality women usually never go for awkward and strange men. I had already reconciled with the fact that more likely than not, the women I will date will try to change me, fail, and leave, and then I’ll end up with “the one” – the one who will foolishly feign acceptance of my weirdness, marry me, tolerate me, and end up hating me. Until Berna, that is.

In all honesty, I still find it hard to believe that she finds the things that make me weird and therefore undesirable for a lot of people as adorable. Feels like a dream, and rightfully so, for I have always dreamt of a girl like her. Yet she is as real as she gets, for I talk to her about the things I wouldn’t even dare bring up to my mother, brother, and closest of friends; look at her deep brown eyes; feel her soft, smooth, and even morena skin; run my fingers through her short and silky brown hair; hold her reassuring hands whenever we walk; and do the things people usually think are infantile and wastes of both time and money.

But the thing about dreams is that they are either accompanied by nightmares – or turn into one themselves. And I fear that this dream might become one, that she might wake up one day and find my passions, actions, thoughts, and words as intolerable pains, that she might one day become “the one”. Or worse – maybe I, not her, would be the one to wake up as a completely different person and hurt my dream. I, the one who wanted someone like her to come along, would let her down, neglect her, grow tired of her, have differences and fights with her and resent her for them, and what is perhaps the worst – be tempted by another dream that is nowhere near as wonderful as her.

These fears are real because they are very possible, so I fight these nightmares off, work hard, remind myself, and pray every day so that both of us would stay as understanding, accepting, loving, supporting, and faithful with each other as our first few days. Because more likely than not, I will never chance upon a dream as beautiful, vivid, full of life, and as fitted for me as her. Because more likely than not, I will never find a girl like her again, whose love can make reality feel like a dream and turn dreams into reality.