Dearest,

 

You’ve asked me on many occasions to get my head out of the clouds. I know it frustrates you to see my eyes looking elsewhere to a place you can’t quite reach. You live in the here and now with the coarse ground that grips your feet and refuses to let you go. You like it like that. You like waking up when the rooster crows at dawn before kissing me good morning. You like looking out the window while drinking your favorite cup of coffee. It makes you smile seeing that everything is precisely where we left it. That everything is exactly as it should be.

 

I know you are satisfied with our little life in our little town. I know you hate that I’m not. I want you to know that I try. I try to forget the stories living behind my mind’s eye. I try to be satisfied with the sweat that runs down my skin and the mud that cakes my boots and your smile at the end of a long day of work. And I try to understand the humble pleasure you feel caring for our animals and our land that would break apart without your coarse, sun-dried hands.

 

Please, dearest, at the very least, know that you’re all that keeps me here. You’re – in all its simplicity and complexity – the anchor that steadfastly pulls me back down to Earth when I’m at the brink of breaking gravity and spiraling away. But keeping your head out of the clouds is harder than you might think. You look at the clouds and wonder when it will rain. I look at them and wonder what animals they’ll become; if they’re as soft as cotton; if they’ll carry me beyond the stars.

 

And why should I limit myself when I know there are infinite worlds waiting to be discovered? I need the wonder of a world of what ifs. What if the big oak tree in our yard could speak and tell us a whole century worth of stories? Oh, the things we could learn as our ears become filled with those sweet melodies. But, I admit, I need you to pull me back when the what ifs become too harsh. What if I never wake up? I need to know that you’ll be there.

 

I know it’s risky. You always tell me that I’ll miss out on what’s right in front of me – that I’ll miss out on us. But then our eyes meet, and I can’t help but want to reach deeper as your thoughts tangle with mine. They give me the courage to imagine what could be. And I try to say come with me even when I know you’ll just shake your head and say stay with me. I stay because I can’t imagine leaving the safety you promise. For if I am to dream, at least it’ll be in the safety of your warm embrace. So, we must compromise my dear. I’ll daydream for the both of us while you remind me to always come home. In the end, love, reality is what we shape it to be so if you hold me tight in your reality, I’ll help you fly in mine.

 

Love,

your daydreamer