Nightmares always recur, but never our most beautiful dreams.
I slowly lost any dream for myself. No one warned me of this, that the stars in New York can infect the light inside, that they can trap you in their shadow. Dylan was of course a star. He had achieved the thing we all came to New York wanting.
We are all cursed. We live in the era of the curse. A world that cannot be fixed. The best thing would be an alien ship. Another planet. One with three moons. But you, I saw you in my dreams. I saw you coming. You came to heal my broken heart. That's why I named you Ahlam.
When I returned to New York, it had already changed. I always wished things could just remain.
With the years, we become even more ourselves and call this change.
I first understood why Christians prayed for a savior in the form of a beautiful man. He had absolved me of the blue-streaked blond.
It was all so foolish then, as it is now, as it is forever. To be in love with beauty. To try to hold on to it.
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