The hardest dreams are the ones where I’m happy.

The doors open, and I move to the corner of the train car. She enters as I turn to face the door, and she is happy to see me. She moves close, and I tell her that I love her. She smiles. I remember that smile.

Later, I describe how that smile will change. I point to a blank space, and I describe the moment where that uncomplicated joy will fade to realization, and a quiet kind of pain. Even here, I understand that this can’t last, why it shouldn’t begin.

Then I wake up. Again.