"I don't understand you," the girl said, standing a few feet away. "I thought I did... but I don't."

"What do you mean?" The boy asked, jerking his head to move his bangs out of his eyes.

"I don't know," the girl said.

Her eyes glanced over to the empty bench sitting in front of the dusty piano. It had been so long since it was last used. She looked back up to the boy across the room. His hands were tucked inside of his sweatshirt pockets, but his eyes were still locked on her, just as they had always been. She sighed, and before she knew it, tears were falling from her eyes.

"We were supposed to be sitting over there," she said, pointing to the vacant bench.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be different."

The boy stood up and slowly walked over toward the crying girl, step by step. More steps. His hands remained in his pockets, even at the very moment he came face to face with her. Then, something strange happened. He just hugged her. She didn't ask any questions but embraced herself in his arms. The moment was nice and so long awaited, but unfortunately, it wasn't real.

None of it was.

All of this was the girl's imagination — a scenario she had come up with inside her head that had all spiraled off of one simple dream. The dream was meaningless, at first, until she had it again. Who knew that one dream could add so much happiness in her life? And that with so much happiness, could come so much pain? No one could have. Well, apparently the girl could have.

The worst part of it all?

That girl was me.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All resemblance to actual people, places, things, or incidents is purely coincidental.