I dream about things, some of them terrible things, some others weird ones. Sometimes I dream about how things are now, about mistakes I made, about what I never did and what I could have done. This is killing me, I wish there was a way to keep eyes closed, or make of visualizations just as night, dark, with nothing outside. Sometimes I dream about the future, whether I’ll be able to forget you someday or not, I guess I can’t. Now I can’t love anybody else than you; if I ever met another girl what a fiasco would be for her. I would try to live a lie, appearing to love somebody, when what reality is just an attempt of finding you in another person. I’m sorry, but I do love you.
Anthony Phillips - God If I Saw Her Now by Psyché