Sixteen is just thirteen plus three

Here's the thing.
I didn't get much sleep last night, and I doubt if I'll be getting much sleep this morning, and it's all because of a dream I had the night before last, the kind of dream that you don't necessarily wish was real, but the kind of dream that you at least wish you could have whenever you wanted to, and that's why I couldn't sleep last night, because I knew I wouldn't be able to have that dream no matter how hard I tried, and because we all know that when it comes to dreams the harder you try to repeat it the less likely it is to happen.

The Dream
I was sixteen, and I was living in the house I grew up in, and the girl next door, the girl next door that didn't exist in real life, and I had a clandestine relationship going on. I would sneak over to her house late at night and climb into her upstairs bedroom window, and we would talk in whispers, and lay on her bed, and touch each other under the covers, and I would want to go further, and I think she did too, but something would always come up, maybe it would be her parents making a noise downstairs, or a dog barking outside, there was always something, and she would get all up tight, and she would ask me to leave, and we would promise to meet again the next night, and I would go back out through her window, and sneak back home, and lay in bed all confused.

Then I woke up, and I rolled over and fell back asleep, and I dreamt I was the governor of Illinois and I was at a party with the governor of Indiana and the governor of Ohio.