As hammers pound away above my head and the worker bees shuffle to keep in pace with a singsong hymn, you know that I am lost. Lost in a world of dreams and magic. Distracted by my own enchanted daydream I lose sight of reality as it truly exists. My reality is bland and full of repetition but at night, when the moon comes out and the stars shine, anything becomes possible. I feel your warmth. Your arms tight around my mid section. Your heartbeat pounding like a drum as you rest your weary head in the nook between my shoulder. The gentle tickle of your fingers caressing my arm and I once again feel alive. Feel your love. Just a taste of your existence and I need more. Call me an addict because that’s not far from the truth. I feed my addiction with a box full of memories and a slumber that makes my day feel inferior. Why wake up? Why, ever, wake up?