Life. Dreams. Beautiful. Life.

I used to have dreams about the love I had for you. I would picture us laughing and enjoying each other's company. You would teach me new things and I would admire you. The one I loved had beautiful hands. He would rest his hand on mine and it was so incredible. We would lay in fields and dream about where we wanted to go in our lives.

When I think of love, I think of being a housewife. You go off to work and I take care of our kids and take them to their activities and sports practices. I make dinner and when you come home you eat and tell me about work, and you just stare at me because you missed me. We play games with our kids and help them with their homework. On the weekends we wake up early and take our kids and our dog to the park. I think I love to dream.

When I don't think of love, I think of being completely involved in my career. I go to work in the city and take care of my news stories and design work. I pick up dinner and come home to missed business calls and several new e-mails. I try and get an early start on my next big story and designing a very important logo for a large company. On the weekends I escape the city by getting on trains and exploring the world. I think reality can be beautiful.

I still have dreams of the love I had for you. I picture us sitting and hating each other's company. You don't teach me new things and I never admire you. Your hands are dirty. You don't try to rest your hand on mine and you tell me you love someone else. We lay in a field for the last time and I dream about the goals I have for my life.