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I don’t usually dream. Either that or I forget them shortly after waking up, but the end result is the same. Last night I had a strange one. It’s remained pretty vivid over the course of the day, too.

I just got done doing something. I don’t know what, exactly, but it feels like something that happens onstage with a microphone. Not singing, but maybe public speaking. Something stressful, but fulfilling. I’ve pulled off my shirt, leaving me in just a white tanktop and blue jeans.

I walk into my dressing room, or some type of nice-ish room, and there’s a girl sitting on the couch. She’s latina, with pretty brown skin and black hair. She’s got her legs pulled up on the couch, knees close together. She’s looking at me from behind her knees, her bangs sitting low on her forehead, but I can tell that she’s smiling like she’s proud of me.

I lean over her knees and kiss her. It’s a short kiss, just on the lips, but it kinda lingers, too. We stop and I look at her. I touch her knees. She shrugs, still smiling. I cock my head, my eyes narrow, and I look at her smile. I smile a half smile, a resigned smile, turn, and walk out, just in time to wake up to my alarm (I think it was “Island Radio” by Hard Nips).

It felt weirdly final, like a door closing.