I kind of hate reading love stories. After I finish them, my heart swells up with a rush of emotions that I've never really understood. I feel.. bubbly, happy, and sad. Like nothing in the world could possibly go wrong. Because, with an ending like that, there's nothing that could make things bad. My heart is beating fast and my I feel light-headed. But more than anything, I'm just plain wistful. I think about my past and I wonder about my future. I wish on the stars and gaze at the moon. I lay in bed and I dream about dreams. But it's not the same as the real thing.