seeming perfect to me only because I had never seen what genuine life looks like.

The realization that what we create is an imperfect creation from an imperfect creation. Hard to determine what is worst. The walking dream reality, or the reality that we are imperfect.
I am still really enjoying trying to figure out the dreamscape you are weaving, is it one, or two separate entities causing the dreams, are they reality but only seem to be dreams because their minds or other minds have slipped into another dimension. I just find the whole story pretty fascinating.