Sometimes, as I’m lying in bed, trying to sleep, I imagine that an unknown number calls.

When I pick up, I hear your voice saying “hi”. I imagine just giving a deep sigh as I realize it’s you. Then I imagine asking you how you got my number, and that you have some long explanation that sounds unreasonably complicated. Then I imagine myself telling you everything, how I really feel. And then I imagine us just spending the night talking about anything and everything. From the things we like to the things we don’t like, our stories, our thoughts. Just enjoying hearing each 0ther speak. Then I imagine whispering: “I’m really glad you called.” And you answer: “me too” and I smile, not only because of your words, but because I can hear the smile in your voice as you’re saying those words. I imagine us talking until I hear the birds chirping outside my window, talking with slurred voices, heavy eyelids and lazy smiles. I imagine us slowly drifting to sleep, with the phones still to our ears. Eventually, our conversation about anything and everything turns into hearing each other breathing heavily through the phone. I imagine not being able to stay awake anymore, and falling asleep with a smile on my face.

Still nice to imagine though…

Sometimes, I imagine that I fall into a rabbit hole of my own. Just free fall through a tunnel of darkness until I land in Wonderland. A life that is completely different from the one I live in, where bizarre things are as common as dull ones are in this world. Where I can just go along, being in a constant state of wonder, distracted from what I know is left behind. I want to, for a moment, feel like I have no responsibilities. Worries. Burdens. To be able to just exist. Of course, the thoughts of real life would always be in the back of my head, hiding. And after a while, they would start creeping forward. Step by step. Until they’re all l can think about. Inevitable. Then all I’d want to do is find my way back to that rabbit hole and, against all reason, climb up through it. Up and out, into the world I’ve always known. A risk with Wonderland is that I’d might not find the way back to the hole. Maybe I would have gone to far, in my desperate attempt to find an escape. To find what  turns out to be a temporary escape. I’m probably better off in my ordinary life.

It may not be perfect, but at least I know it’s real.