You know, I don't remember most dreams. Not significant enough, I guess.
But I remembered this one, the vivid details. You were handsome, and I hoped I was beautiful enough for you, and you wrote me this letter, in Chinese, detailing how I was the best thing that happened in your life.
When I woke up from this, I had a silly smile, knowing it's impossible. As I recalled, you don't write in Chinese. And I don't think I could finish the whole letter with my poor command of the language.
Well it's meant to be a dream, because the last I spoke to you, you were still with her. Oh well.