I had a very vivid dream today. So vivid that I was having a hard time placing it. Was it a dream or a memory? I could not tell.
I woke up in a haze and went straight for my phone to check my notifications. I did not pay much attention to it. It was not until on my kingly throne did it struck me; communing with nature while playing a game of Homescapes–the dream was unsettling. I started to recollect the scenes and thought that I let you know before they fade away. It came back to me. It felt like I was there. Just the thought of it was stirring emotions I could not pin.
So I booted my laptop, powered the electric kettle, and tore a sachet of that vile powdered chemical they call 3-in-1 coffee mix–a disgrace to actual coffee.
Diary, I will try my best to reproduce in detail what has transpired in that surreal world. Hopefully with the help of this engineered caffeine, I shall divide it into scenes as best as I can.
I believe I was with my college friends. We were in a two storey house inside a bedroom. The walls were painted yellow… or maybe lit with incandescent lightbulbs giving off a yellow glow. I could not tell. I recall on one wall there was a Whiteboard. It would make you wonder, “why would a bedroom have a whiteboard?“
She was there. Lovely as ever. Puffy cheeks that seemed to make her look ready to break into a smile. Petite and reaching only up to my eye level. Her long hair tied to a pony tail which rests at the base of her neck. Her eyes that twinkle with her naturally curly eyelashes. She looked at me and saw me staring. I recall we were having a conversation and it was about something that we could not continue discussing around her boyfriend and with our group being uninvited.
We left the house but in this next scene I was standing in front of it from a distance. We seemed to have promised to continue our conversation outside of the house at past midnight. The house seemed to be in a big forested land standing alone in an open space in the middle. I was at the wooden gate that broke the continuity of the fence surrounding the whole property. She pulled the curtains, looked through the window and saw me. It was our signal. I made my way towards the house.
The next scene shifted to a floating third person view of her. She was telling everyone in the house, including her boyfriend, that she will be heading downstairs to take a shower and get milk. She made her way to the stairs and went down without turning the lights on–a towel in hand.
I was near the house. For some reason I was lying flat on the wet garden soil inching around the walls in a crawl; hiding and avoiding being seen. I was crawling my way towards the back. Then the view turned third person to show a camera at the edge of the roof pointed at me.
We met at a picnic table which was facing the right side of the house. I could not understand why I had to crawl almost a full turn around the house to get to that part which was nearest coming from the gate where I stood.
We had our conversation. It was more of an argument. She asked why I said what I said back in the house. Why did I have to tell her how I felt when she was already with someone. Why not then when I had every opportunity. It dragged on and were mostly moments of lengthy silence.
It was dawn. I was telling her the reason I could not pursue her. That I was going through something personal–a mental condition–that I had to deal with before I can be sure of myself that I was ready to enter in any relationship. Before I could get my thoughts across, she cut me off saying that it was too late; she was dying. Then people came out from the house along with her boyfriend. They sat around the picnic table. Dressed for the cold morning of dawn. They stared at me. She sat beside her boyfriend and they talked. They talked for quite some time and when I saw the sun peeking at the horizon I decided to take my leave. She caught my hand and pulled me into a hug to bid her farewell. As we broke off from our hug, his boyfriend reached out for a handshake. It felt firm with a hint of resolve then I saw his face. He was crying. When I turned to leave I woke up.
Oh D, that was some odd dream. As I write this letter, I cannot help but get a deep sense of relief from that dream; and it won’t go away. Care to interpret?
I look forward to hearing from you. May my thoughts be carried away in search of you.