And Then I'll Wake Up

From childhood, I’ve been dreaming the same dream: a high-rise building, an unfamiliar street, and a girl. She laughs, talks to me, reaches out her hand—but every time I wake up before I can even touch her. An angel—that’s what I called her in my head. At twenty-nine, I found out that this street and the apartment building really exist. That fact shocked me. The girl remained. I even thought: what if she’s real too, and we’re meant to be together? But when we finally met, my first thought was to strangle her.