I had a dream last night. You were there wearing your leather jacket with your laptop bag cutting across your body. Your hair was its usual black, spiked like the characters you draw in your sketchbook. You were staring at me as you walked down the main street of town. The area was bare which made the scene somewhat eerie. You walked towards me, never once looking away. I waited for you to realise who I was. I waited for your beautiful smile to spread across your face and bring life into your sad eyes. They were always sad.
The double eyebrow piercing you had over your left eye made you look scary to those who didn’t know you but the danger you posed was superficial. The hurt in your eyes told me that. No one with such pain that emanates from them could cause harm. This is what I noticed as you continued to walk towards me.
It was as if everything was moving in slow motion. The steps you took echoed through the street. Your movement was fluid as if you were floating on the breeze that swept through the empty space. You were almost perfect at that point; everything was as it was meant to be except for those eyes. I wanted to run to you to hurry everything along and turn time back to normal. I wanted you to see me instead of simply looking my way. I wanted to feel your arms around me like the hug we share as our usual greeting but I couldn’t move. Most of all I wanted you to smile. If there was one thing above all that I wanted right then, while I stood alone on the street, it would have been to see you smile.
You got close enough for me to smell your cologne, the sweet scent that immediately brings you to mind every time I inhale it. My knees went weak in the clichéd way they say they do and I feared I would fall. I did not worry about hitting the hard pavement bellow me because I thought you would catch me like you have so many times before when my clumsiness takes hold. And then my fear disappeared as I remembered I was dreaming.
You were right in front of me now but you did not stop walking. Your eyes stayed fastened to mine but you never stopped. No smile crossed your face and no friendly approach was seen. There was no warmth coming from you which made me wonder if it were you at all. I felt myself begin to slip down. Your eyes left mine for the first time and I fell and you did not catch me. As I sat there against the wall, with a gaping hole in my chest, I could not move, I could not speak. I could not call after you to ask why you weren’t there to catch me.
I could not move. I could not speak. I could not ask. When I awoke the hole in my chest remained matched with moist cheeks and a heavy breath. For the first time since we began our incomprehensible friendship I realised you would never love me.
I had a dream last night. You were there wearing your leather jacket with your laptop bag cutting across your body. Your hair was its usual black, spiked like the characters you draw in your sketchbook. You walked by me. I never once looked away.
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