The fine line between hopes, dreams and reality.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic
A woman comes to realize how thin the line cam become that separates hopes, dreams and reality.

Submitted: July 09, 2014

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Submitted: July 09, 2014



The fine line between hopes, dreams and reality.

Wiping the sleep from the corners of my eyes; sitting down in my usual place at the back. It’s the same as always. The same diner, the same seat, the same menu and the same people. The same old people. I look around, as I always do, filtering through the faces. Some of which I remember, some of which I can only recall.

Then I come to a specific face. That girl. The girl who always sits at the counter, third from the left. Two seats up from the bald policeman. She is the person I recognize most. Her shining red hair and green eyes that glimmer in the light. I’ve learnt that I can stare all I want, because she never looks my way, never turns her head this far right. But I don’t, it’s just not right. I take my fair share of glances, but I never stare.

It’s become a regular thing, the diner. Every morning, for as long as I remember now, I always end up there. Even though I never really remember much when I leave. I never thought you could fall in love with a place, or a person, that didn’t know you existed. It’s a remarkable thing, love is.

Anyway, I should better get going soon, I’m moving house later you see. I have to make sure everything is ready to move. It’s not like I have very much to take with me anyway, I only have a small apartment at the moment, and that’s not really going to change. The area I’m moving to looks really lovely. I’ve discovered there’s a diner just like the one I’m in right now.

It’s been a week now. Everything is sorted to do with the moving process. I guess I still have a few boxes to unpack, but I’ll get round to it. My job starts again in about a week and a half, so I have a little time to relax

I thought I’d take a trip to the diner I found out about, the one that was ever so familiar, yet I’d never before visited it.

Stepping through the door was a mix of nauseating and Déjà vu but at the same time incredibly warm and comforting. Walking instinctively to the back, sitting at a table without even fully comprehending what I was doing. Slowly, I began scanning the menu, taking in every little detail.


Deciding on what to order, I began looking around, seeing if I could catch the attention of a waitress. That’s when I see it. Or more specifically, her. When I say it, what I mean is the shining red hair. Do I know that hair from somewhere? The thought just hit me like a load of bricks. I knew I knew that hair, but where from was totally eluding me.


It’s been a few moments (or maybe minutes) and my brain has seemed to switch back on and I realize that I have been blatantly staring at the back of this random woman’s head. Well it had been her head. But where the back of her head was once, now there was her face. And is she staring right back at me...and is that I smile I see?


Quickly turning away, where it seems my menu has just transformed into a very engaging 1000 word article, I focus my attention in it. I don’t know how long I have sat here now, feeling my face burning up. I’m not sure what I was thinking about during those moments, if anything. But then, suddenly, another thought hit me, once again like a load of bricks. This place is my diner. My dream diner. The place where I ended up every morning. The place before I woke up.


How did I not remember? There she is, sitting at the counter, third from the left. Two seats up from the bald policeman. Everything seems to make sense now, and now I realize how stupid that sounded.

Suddenly snapping out of my dream world, although I was conscious of the dreaming this time. But what’s more important is what snapped me out of it, or more specifically, who. There is the girl. With the shining red hair and green eyes that glimmered in the light. She is sitting right across from me.


Now don’t get me wrong, I was rather confused why she is right there, but at this moment it didn’t really matter. I am more confused by the fact that this is the place, and the girl that I have been dreaming about every morning for as long as I could remember.

Not really being able to say anything, I just sit here like a lemon. I’m just kind of staring at her. I know I shouldn’t but I’m not sure I can control it, my mind is all over the place.


I am studying her face, her features. The right side of her face seems ever so familiar. So now I decide to study the left. Now I have absolutely no idea how long this has been going on for, and I have no idea what she is doing throughout this whole time of me showing off my incredible people skills. I think I just heard her say something, but it was like she is in another world.


I look at her, not staring this time. She seems to pick up that I have no clue of what is going on, let alone what she just said, and so she repeats herself.

“Do I know you from somewhere”

I have no idea what she means by this. Was it because I had been staring at her and she wanted to know why? Or was it some other equally and utterly bewildering reason? She seems to pick up that my mind has gone walkabouts once again, and she giggles. Or at least I think she just did. And then she says:

“Sorry it’s just I think know you from somewhere?”

That was the moment that my dreams were made, but were also broken. This was because that was the moment that I woke up in my bed, in my new apartment, with a crushing sense of realization looming over me.


 The moment I woke up from the diner dream that day, the dream that was ever so familiar but that time, slightly different, was the moment that I decided that I would definitely visit the diner down the street and to the left at some point. I didn’t and still don’t know when I will visit it, but I have made up my mind that I will.


The only reason for this is I am, with the whole capacity of my heart, that she will be sitting there, at the counter, three seats from the left. Two seats up from the bald policeman. And that she will somehow come up to me after I have been blatantly staring at her  and she repeat those words:

“Sorry it’s just I think know you from somewhere?”


And then, then will be the moment when I will know that it was her, and that it always was and always will be her.

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