How can I be tired of not kissing you, of not being with you when I’m not sure who you are? Yet, that is how I feel. A bone deep weariness that steals over me, when I think about this person in my dreams. She always looks the same, her voice is the same. The thought of her voice fills me with longing. Does she look like she does in the dreaming? Will I recognize her? Or, depressingly, is she a hope unrealized of a heart cast open wide? Does she not exist, except in the heart of who will love me as I love them? Am I asking questions without answers? A chicken or the egg. Does she exist in my dreams because she loves me or because she will love me? Does it matter? I will seek her in my dreams, to hold her in my arms. I will do so until we meet and as often as I can after. Am I just a romantic fool, looking for someone who isn’t?