I had a [nightmare].

You were here. Then you left.
You didn't even say goodbye.

I called.
Something about Amanda.

I cried. I said "You just left? Without saying goodbye?"
I cried.

I cried and you said "So, can't we just be friends?"
I gasped. I cried harder and I said "Fine, you want to know everything? I'm going to tell you everything."

Then I started to spill my soul all over my front yard. I yelled and cried into the phone.
I wanted you. To be with you. To hear your and touch you everyday.
I was just about to get to the soul-wrenching part.
I was going to tell you I love you.

I woke up.

Perhaps Freud would tell me I needed closure.
But my conscious mind wasn't quite ready for it.

Well, I'm going to do this myself.
It's obvious that the universe is [and has been] telling me what I need to do, now I just need to do it.

I wish I could turn this into a novel. Maybe I could become a best seller.
Perhaps since you're stealing my dream space, I could at least steal your dream.