Dear Gatsby,

I can't fall asleep because I'm afraid I will dream. Don't get me wrong - dreams are lovely. Sometimes I fly in my dreams, swim in the deepest of oceans, or dream of this peaceful darkness with stars winking high above my head. But then, there are those seemingly realistic ones that scare me the most because I don't want to mix up my fantasy and my reality.

Dreams make you do things you'd usually never do - they snatch you right out of your comfort zone. They give you this courage that blossoms from your chest and makes your heart thump with such power, leaving you weak with emotion. They make you smile even wider, walk a little taller, hold your head a bit higher. And sometimes, I want those kinds of dreams never to end.

But you showed me the line, the invisible one. The one that stops the pragmatic dreamers from jumping off the cliff but remains hidden from the heart-filled fools who take just one more step.

And the worst part is, I'm both.

You were better than all the rest. Nick was right; you were innocent, wistful, and your very downfall was the best part about you. You and I share something in common: "an extraordinary gift for hope." Some say hoping isn't wise and inevitably, leads to disappointment, but I disagree. Life is all about hope, it's about striving, it's about keeping that green light in your mind's eye.

Perhaps I can fall asleep at ease now, knowing that in the end, reality is its own kind of dream.

Thank you,

Kristi