It may be true that we share this life, but I never expected to share each other's nightmares too. Somewhere in the middle of the night, I'd pass my fears of failure to you while you were asleep. I wonder if it was the way we slept? Perhaps our brains were too close to one another, perhaps we were too involved with one another to realize that we were not entirely fit to be adults. We were playing house--acting as if we were fit to play the role of a grown-up; throwing keys, and spending money on things we couldn't afford.
There was some sort of fabric that kept us together, but I can't exactly call it love, maybe it's called dependency. It held long enough for us to realize that just because our bodies were designed for each other, perhaps our minds were not the ones fit for living this kind of life.
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