Confusing Logic

"I'm not too fond of reality, ya know."

The boy turned his head to stare at the blue-eyed girl beside him. She was intently staring up at the stars, her eyes focused on something far away. Her hands, now resting on her stomach, playing with each other.

"Why?" He asked, turning back to the night sky.

"Well, there's so many things wrong with it..." She shook her head, smiling a little. The smile was an embarrassed one. "I'm sure I sound so silly right now."

The boy frowned, still focusing solely on the bright white circle which shined so radiantly over the dark green field of grass and the black canvas it was plastered on. "No. Go on."

The girl smiled again, this time more naturally. "Well, reality has so many blurred lines--you can't be sure on anything, especially when it comes to memories. It has so much crap in between lines…It makes you wonder if you should really even try.  And, you can't even trust your eyes at times," She smiled again, but this time it was sad. "It bothers me..."

"Reality bothers you?" The boy smirked, folding his arms behind his back.

The girl frowned, embarrassed.

"So, what are you fond of?"

The girl twisted her head, staring at the boy beside her. "Imagination, fantasy--whatever you want to call it," She said matter-of-factly. "It's better."

The boy smirked again. "Do explain."

"Well," The girl started, her eyes turning back to the sky. "Imagination is clean, to the point, no crap or fluff in between. You can trust it to do what you want, and it never goes away." She sighed. "It makes me want my dreams to be real."

The boy frowned, puckering his lips, thinking over this. "True," He said, allowing this. "But, if your illusion--if you'll allow that--is reality, then, what is reality?"

The girl smiled. "Illusion," She said, understanding her logic clearly.

"So, illusion is reality, so what is illusion?" The boy said, wondering about her response. "And, don't say reality, for that is now clearly illusion."

The girl puckered her lips, thinking. "Well, then, it's clearly our reality--not their illusion, as you put it."

The boy frowned. He thought he had her. "But, wouldn't that make their dreams boring?"

The girl looked at him questioningly.

The boy smiled. "Well, as far as I know, the one thing I enjoy most about the nighttime is the time where my mind makes its own images," He met the girl's gaze. "It's rather fun seeing what my dreams can do."

The girl looked away, blushing in chagrin. "So, what you're saying is that, dreams will be boring, not amusing like it is to us?"

The boy nodded. "Exactly."

The girl smiled again. "Well, there's one thing wrong with that theory. Remember, their reality is our imagination, so that makes it amusing--but only to us. Perhaps our reality is amusing to them," She said, her logic making everything click into place. "So, naturally, their imagination--what they want--will be what we have--reality. Or, ours, at least."

The boy bit his bottom lip, angry that she outsmarted him again. "But, is our reality so fun?" He asked after a while. "I mean, all we do is wake up, brush our teeth, do our day-by-day chores, brush our teeth again, then sleep," He shrugged. "It can't truly be that fun."

The girl scowled. "Must you always contradict my statements?" She asked.

The boy smiled wryly. "Only when it needs to be."

The girl shook her head, sitting upright. "So, our reality is boring to their reality. How can you be so sure? Isn't imagination what we've always wanted? Our imagination would be their reality, and their imagination would be our reality." She looked down at the boy, frowning. "It only makes sense that they want what we have."

The boy sat up also. "So, our reality--brushing teeth and sleeping--is what they want? When they have flying horses and talking trees?"

The girl smiled. "Not horses, silly--unicorns."

The boy glared at her.

The girl sighed. "Yes, pretty much," She said, laying back down.

The boy stared at the sky for an immeasurable time until he threw himself back onto the ground. "OK, so, now that we've cleared up our and their wants and haves, here's another question."

The girl braced herself for another spiral of confusing logic.

"Do you think someone is staring right at us right now, talking about the same things?"

The girl rolled over to her side, staring at the boy incredulously. He met her gaze, 10 times stronger.

"Well?"

The girl smiled. "Of course!" She said, smugly. "Their world is an exact parallel of ours. So, that means, some girl and guy are out there, sitting in the middle of a field, speaking about brushing teeth and sleeping."

The boy smiled. "Or maybe, they're  wondering if someone else is speaking about flying unicorns and talking trees."

The girl's grin widened. "I wonder if they think if their flying unicorns and talking plants are as boring as our non-flying non-unicorn horses and silent trees."

The boy grinned, sitting up again. "Well, of course," He said, looking back up at the moon. "Aren't they and 'exact parallel'?"

The girl sat up also. "Who needs reality? Fantasy is so much more fun," She sighed.

The boy stood up, brushing himself clean. He stretched out a hand, waiting for the girl. When she stood up, he smiled and said, "Not ours."

The girl frowned, finally outsmarted by more confusing logic.