A story about broken dreams

When Harold was younger, he used to dream about going to the moon. He dreamed that there were moon creature, little cute ones.

When he was older, he saw pictures of the moon and read lots of books.  No creatures. He grew disillusioned with the moon, he stopped believing.

When he fell in love with Genvieve, he later found out she believed in moon creatures. She wished he could go to the moon to see them. It would be wonderful and he and the moon creatures could have tea and discuss Poe.

Harold thought she was insane. He did not believe in moon creatures, he never would and the thought was ridiculous. Genevieve knew he had and wanted him to try. He refused. She loved him so much, she begged and pleaded for him to try to believe and be the wonderful person with the wonderful imagination and beliefs she knew he had. He refused.  He said horrible things about moon creatures and told her she was insane. She cried and told him he didn’t even want to try to believe again. She left him.

I wish I could say that later in his life, Harold looked up at the moon and saw a cute face looking back and him. I would like to say he cried and searched the world for his lost love. I don’t know if that happened.

I just know that sometimes, people fail your expectations and hopes of them. You can love a person to the moon, but that doesn’t mean they’ll see what lives there.