I linger in the doorway of alarm clock screaming monsters come to find me.
Dawn is breaking. I don't know if it would be worse to stay in my nightmare or wake up and face the new day without you.
Let me stay where the wind will whisper to me. Where the raindrops as they're falling tell a story.
Igrasp tightly to my dream so I do not have to leave.I lie in a field and listen to the wind and rain as they tell methe storyof the man from Zanarkand, a star blitzball player, who appeared in Spira and became the guardian of High Summoner Yuna. The story I already know so well. The story of you.
In my field of paper flowers and candy clouds of lullaby, I lie inside myself for hours and watch my purple sky fly over me.
My dreamswith you actually in ithave lessened.Most nights whenwedon'ttry toruninto each other's arms, I am in the field, a seeminglyendless blissbut with a layer of depression. It is my safe house, my only place of happiness, though small happiness.
Don't say I'm out of touch in this rampant chaos, your reality. In know now what lies beyond my sleeping refuge the nightmare I built my own world to escape.
I have distanced myself from everyone around me, especially my close friends. Every time I look at them I am shot back to the pilgrimage where you smiled and laughed. So full of life. I miss you so much
In my field of paper flowers and candy clouds of lullaby, I lie inside myself for hours and watch my purple sky fly over me.
I think back to that day in Luca when you promisedYuna that ifshe whistled, you'd come running. I keep thinking about what you would do if I whistled. Itried, but youdidn't come and my dream stayed and remainsempty and alone. Completely and utterly alone.
Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming, cannot cease for the fear of silent nights. Oh how I long for the deep sleep dreaming. The goddess of imaginary light.
When you didn't arrive, I noticed the silence. The piercing, deafening silence. Not even the wind blew. So I screamed. I screamedjustto hearsomething. I heard ahigh-pitched wail. I hate the loneliness of my "happy place." It would truly be a happy place, filled with joy and bliss, if only one person were there. You.
In my field of paper flowers and candy clouds of lullaby, I lie inside myself for hours and watch my purple sky fly over me.
But when you don't come and I am overcome with grief, I just cradle myself in the solitary of my dream, waiting for the dawn to break, where I wake up and face another day without you.
