I had a dream. I think I'm going crazy.
I'm going to need this jump break.
I found myself drinking with a young man. We were alone, and I knew I was being fearless because I never drank that much before. He was a fine young man, too mature to be called a boy. He got a strong set of brow. His hair was brown, as the color of the ground after the rain. And that's how, I thought, I was going to love him for a long time.
I guess we spent the night together, because my mind innocently just skipped that part. In the morning I was sitting with a little girl and I guess I tried to impress her. I failed, though. She stabbed my left cheek with a pencil and the next thing I knew a paramedic was putting band-aids on my cheek.
And he walked in and sat on a row near me. He didn't smile or panic or anything I thought he'd be. He was looking straight to me, so I looked back into his eyes. His gaze was filled by things I couldn't completely decipher, but I saw despair, and I saw longing. I wanted to cry, not because of the pain on my cheek, not even for being bullied and hit by a girl. I wanted to cry because of his eyes. Like I wanted myself to be eaten by him, like I wanted to be consumed by his gaze. No tears came down from my eyes.
I came to him and sat beside him. I put my head on the crook of his neck and it fitted perfectly. I could hear him groaned softly, or it was just him whispering my name. I could feel his warmth, and with it came along his heartbeat. I could hear my own breath. Come in, and out. And in. And out. And I close my eyes.
And I woke up. Gasping and breathing hard. What kind of dream I just had, I thought. I tried to go back to sleep again but the dream won't come back. It was the nicest intersection of dream and real life, but also the saddest one I've ever had. Like he's slipping through me, and could felt it in the last few breaths I took.
I long for him, a person I never knew and never met on real life. I long for his eyes, and his strong set of brow. I miss him already.
I'm going crazy.
