Real Life

"What if..." I begin, slightly nervous, looking up at the star-filled sky, "...none of this is real?"
I can feel him turn to look at me, interested in what I might say next.
"I mean, what if this is all just an illusion, an alternate reality, of sorts." Nerves beginning to dissipate, I look over at him. "What if this was all created by some big-shot genius, some company, or something. What if it's all just a huge lie?"
"What do you mean?" Now I can tell I've caught his attention.
"Like, maybe we're all stuck in some alternate reality, and everything around us, everything we've ever experienced, is just a part of it. Like, anything you've ever felt, heard, seen, smelled, or tasted was all fake." I turned over onto my side and propped my head up with my elbow. "Like, maybe a bunch of scientists and doctors were hired to keep humans alive, no matter what, until they could, I don't know, cure all illnesses, or, prevent death, somehow. So, like, they hired a bunch of computer geniuses to create an alternate reality, and they put everyone into a really deep, indefinite sleep until they could do what they were hired to do. And, like, all the people that are born into this world are really on the verge of death in the real world. And all the people who die in this world are the people who's illnesses have been cured, or the scientists have figured out how to prolong their lives, or something."
Jack's looking at me like I'm crazy, now. "Babe, what are you talking about?"
I sit up, shifting to a cross-legged position, and look him dead in the eyes.
"Just, humor me for a minute. Let's say that all I've just said is actually true. That means that we're actually lying in a bed in a room somewhere, with dozens, maybe hundreds of others around us, with machines hooked up to our heads or whatever, waiting on a group of scientists to figure out how to save us. And, maybe it's not everyone. Maybe it's only certain people. Maybe it's only people who are sick, or dieing. Like, if a person is close to death, the scientists hook 'em up to a huge alternate reality machine, and then they're born into this world, not knowing anything about who they are in the real world, what they did before, anything. And, like, their families, their parents and grandparents and siblings, are chosen completely at random. And, maybe some of us have better lives here than in the real world. And...maybe some of our lives are worse. Maybe some of the rich people here are actually homeless in the real world. Maybe the people who have great lives here have really bad ones in reality. Maybe there's someone in the real world who controls all of this; all of the people we meet, all the relationships we have, what we do with our new lives, where we go, what we see. Or, maybe these are the things that should've happened to us. Maybe...maybe the things we do, the things we get in this life are things we deserved, things we should've gotten out there. Or, maybe we control everything. Like, our parents are chosen in the beginning, but, beyond that, we are in control. Anything that happens to us, happens because we did something to make it happen. Maybe things are actually way different in real life, and we just think this is how life is." I break from my rant and look at his face. He looks sort of confused. "Does that make sense?"
He shakes his head slightly, sits up, and smiles at me. "You have one very unique imagination." He takes my hand. I smile back, then chuckle.
"I guess it's pretty crazy, huh?" I bite my lip, looking up at him through my lashes.
"Yep." He laughs. "But that's why I love you." I smile, and he leans in and kisses me.
I grab his hand, look into his beautiful blue eyes, and say, "I love you, too."