Dear You,

I guess I should explain some things.

I've gotten to know you now, just from my dreams, mostly (part of what I should explain), and now I've come to think of you as a friend. One with whom I have many one-sided letter conversations.

Awkward.

I wasn't born like this.

Woah, Dan. Back up. 

No...fast forward.

It all happened about a month ago, when I was feeling especially down in the dumps and gloomy and just pretty darn awful. I wished, as I'm sure many(??) people do, that I could skip through that moment, and exit it in another day.

I don't know if it was 11:11, or if there was a shooting star in the middle of the day, but it happened. And, ever since, then, I've been willfully stuck in a constant cycle of wake up, eat cheerios (at midnight, might I add. I only wake up after the day is over) and then fall back asleep, where I watch my day play out in my dreams. Dreams which I somehow retain completely. 

And, lately, I've been seeing you. You have me intrigued, I must admit. No one else seems to notice me much...but you watch me almost uncomfortably often. And I can't quite understand why.