Waking Recollections

I knew you were a dream because real life never feels this way.

Reality is couched in particularities,

Simple differences between here and there, now and later.

When we were together, settings lacked substance,

Melting into one another without distinction.

Time held no meaning.

No meeting was ever long enough to engender boredom.

No moment was too short to pass without containing a lifetime of meaning.

I knew you were a dream because no one could understand me like you did.

No laws of communication could apply to us.

Sometimes, we shared every random detail of our days, our thoughts, our hearts.

Between us, no topic was inconsequential, no words lacked potency.

Sometimes, we connected without a single word, no less of one mind.

In the real world, how could silence convey as much nuance as words?

I knew you were a dream because you were life itself to me.

You were at once my perfect complement and a continuous enigma.

From the moment we met, we had an instant rapport,

A connection that outshone the bond shared by friends from birth.

And yet, every moment together revealed new facets of who you were,

A bottomless capacity for mystery.

Somehow, everything else only had meaning by its relation to you.

You were the lens through which I saw everything else.

But when I lost you, I knew that this must be reality,

Because waking from a dream never hurt this much.