When I was younger I met this girl in a dream I had. She was blonde and had her hair up in a ponytail. She had a square jaw and always looked mad. She was the new kid in school and she was pretty mean, but I took the time to get close to her. She asked me to take her home and I did, but we couldn’t find it. I remember it so well, we were outside of a brutalist type apartment building at dusk, we were behind it, standing near a patch of mulch with a bare tree. It was fall or maybe winter. She turned around and asked me if I wanted to fly away with her, because we didn’t belong here. It felt so real. And I went with her. We met other kids like us and we were all going to fly away. But I only remember her. Whenever I think of her, I feel a sense of longing. Because she understood me. I want to see her again. I miss her in a way that borders on mourning. I miss her so much I feel as if I might cry. I had that dream in middle school, I’m in high school now. I still think about her.