And suddenly, as if waking from a child's dream, I am thrown into reality, not awoken softly by my mother's warmth but startled and bewildered to find her not there. I exit the hazy surrealness of midnight rendezvous, and the disillusionment snakes its way around my heart. As if struggling to find my breath or finding myself alone, I am starkly confronted yet again with my naiveté. I am transformed into that little girl who trusted so easily, and now, it is not just disappointment but also shame that, like a vapor, evades every corner of my being. To have believed in a dream and my own competence, I am still that foolish little girl who never learned. Perhaps, the worst part of gullibility is the knowledge that the fool and the fooled will always be you.