Two journals, one sky
Each of you keeps your own page. In the middle, the things you both dreamt this week begin to glow.
Each of you keeps your own page, fully private. In the middle, the things you both dream begin to overlap — the same ocean, the same kitchen, the same stranger who keeps coming back. A single quiet place where you read your week through each other’s nights — and talk about them.
$27.99/mo or $219/year. The trial requires a card — we send a quiet email two days before it ends. Gift purchases never auto-charge.
live preview · the things in the middle
maya & lior, this week. the things they both dreamed glow in the middle.
A quiet shared room for two. Each of you keeps your own journal. In the middle, the symbols, the moods, and the small recurring rooms you both wander begin to overlap. The closeness, made visible — without ever leaving anyone’s sleep behind.
the things in the middle are what they both dreamt this week. hover a side to see whose dreams hold what.
Each of you keeps your own page. In the middle, the things you both dreamt this week begin to glow.
One quiet paragraph, sent to both of you on Sunday morning. The starting point of a conversation you'll have over coffee.
Build your own dictionary together: what the ocean means to you, what the white room means to them. Save it, edit it, talk about it.
Sensual dreams stay in a private vault until you choose to share. A slow, deliberate gesture — never a tap.
Try it together for a week.
Begin together with a card on file. We'll write you a quiet email two days before the trial ends. Cancel any morning, no questions.
$27.99 a month, both of you · or $219 a year
No leaderboards. No notifications at three in the morning. Just small, careful glances at the night you share.
You see what you both dreamed this week, in the middle — two soft-glowing constellations that meet on the seam. The closeness, made visible.
You find out, gently, when one of you walked through the other’s dream — by name, or by the small names you go by. A whisper, never an alarm.
You wake on Sunday to one quiet paragraph about the week you slept through together. Not advice, never diagnosis — just a starting place for a conversation over coffee.
You can see, in a gentle line, the nights your dreams felt the same weather. The places where the two lines meet are the ones to talk about.
You can look back at this date a year ago and see what you each dreamed. A small archive of who you both were last April, last November.
You build a glossary together: what a white room means for you, what the ocean keeps meaning for them. The dictionary stays even if the relationship doesn’t.
Once in a while, you get a single quiet question to talk about before bed. ‘Tell me about a place you only know in dreams.’ Optional, never pushy.
You react with one small mark — a heart, a moon, a candle, a breath. The dreamer sees what landed. Nothing more.
Intimate dreams stay in a private vault until you choose to share — a slow, deliberate gesture (press, hold, confirm), never a tap. They never appear in the middle on their own.
every dream you write is held inside one of three rooms. you can move a dream between them at any time, with one tap.
by default, your dreams appear in your partner’s feed. you can change this for any single dream — one tap.
sensual or sexual content is moved here automatically. your partner sees that something happened on that night, never the body of it. unlocking is a slow, deliberate gesture.
completely off the shared archive. your partner never sees anything — not a date, not a count, not a hint. yours, fully.
every word you wrote stays yours.
ending the link does not delete a single dream of yours, ever. the shared room — the constellation, the sunday letters, the dictionary — clears after thirty days, with a quiet export of both offered to you first.
we are sorry, when it happens.
begin together. cancel any morning. we’ll send a quiet email two days before the trial ends, so nothing surprises you.
$9.13 / month each, on the year — the price of one quiet breakfast for two.
One of you starts. The other joins free.
Seven nights free with a card · cancel any morning