This is pretty shit but I'm bored.

Enjoying the sensation, I rolled over in the grass to put my back to the stars. To my left I heard the rustling of your shaking head.

"You're rather rude."

Your voice was husky, the result of too many cigarettes smoked and too many drinks drunk. Cupping my hands underneath my chin, I offered you the slightest of shrugs.

"How can you turn your back to everything like that?"

You arched your back to get comfortable and tug your damp shirt away from your body. I knew that if there had have been any light I would have seen your tanned skin through the thin white material. I couldn't help but close my eyes for the momentary imagining.

"One day they wont be around anymore and you'll hate yourself for not paying attention."

There was the sound of you scratching your chin and then your hand running through your hair. When I opened my eyes again your elbow was at the edge of my field of vision.

"Not everything has to disappear forever. Sure, things may leave, but as long as you look at them occasionally, you'll always have some part of them. Mortality is no reason to ignore the mortal world, and the apparent eternity of dreams doesn't make that a place to live your life in."

I heard you sigh and sit up. You were quiet and I would've thought you had vanished if it wasn't for the sound of your rustling the grass from in between your fingers and hair.

"I hope you realise that one day, because I can't join you in there. No one can."

You rubbed my shoulder and stood. I listened to the soft slush of your feet in the grass. Some time later I rolled over and looked up to the stars. I counted them, counting the bright ones twice. At twenty, the moon emerged from behind a cloud providing me with the faintest piece of pale light. Looking around, I found your silhouette sitting on a small park bench. I watched the back of your head for a moment, waiting to see if you turned. You didn't. I didn't stand and I didn't join you. All I did was count twenty-two.