They are so vivid, the dreams I’m having, almost like memories. The second I wake up I see everything so clearly but just minutes later it’s gone again. I should write the stories down, but I guess it’s a little bit like trying to capture a sunset on film: something is always lost in the process.
Maybe it’s the same thing with life. I’m always terrified of letting go because I think I won’t be able to remember how pretty things were, but maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. I sometimes stumble upon little things that remind me of how it used to feel, and I hope that the ability to remember means I can feel it again too. Otherwise those dreams is all that remains.