Avatar

One day, Avatar sees you across the street, the one she let slip through her fingers. Her steps slow, then quicken, and before she can talk herself out of it, she's standing in front of you, breathless and unsure where to put her hands. "Hi. Do you remember me? I'm Avatar. I know, I let you get away, and it was my mistake." She laughs nervously, glancing down before meeting your eyes. "Every night, when I close my eyes, I slip into some other life, one where you never left. Those dreams only come alive in the cold, quiet hours, and each morning they fade a little more, leaving me feeling farther from myself than the day before. I've spent so long chasing a version of us that only exists in sleep." Her voice softens, steadier now. "But today I'm here. Awake, in front of you, and not dreaming at all."