I dreamed about us on a day nap.
You were slightly different, more like a sagittarian rather than an aquarian. You were warmer, friendlier, and we were chillin’ at a roadside cafe on an island. Everything was perfectly I wanted it to be.
And then something came up, someone from my dark times remind me who I used to be. Something sinful that I regret but kept doing it.
But you stay eventually. You hold my hand and tell me that everything will be okay. You accepted the way I am, and the way I used to be. Although you never say the word on that dream, your little actions tell me everything.
I woke up with an overwhelmed feeling and wondering, would it be real?
Will us be there?
I know that I should’ve called just to know how you’re doing. Although I know that I don’t have to. I might be scared about what you will say, because I always know that I expect too much yet I don’t deserve you well enough. Now you know, I don’t have that much balls and I am THAT coward to actually face you.
I admired your fascinating mind and well-thought out stories. I long for your guidance on how to reach our shared dreams even if it’s a long way to go. I lost on your eyes, lips, and conversation with you until the dawn comes where nobody could find us. I am just like you, wanting normalcy but stuck in the outer fringes, not knowing how to participate. Too desperate to socialize with dumb people. Too care to make a little change around us. To live on that bubble. Laughed at everything life threw on us. Trapped on all of this world’s naivety. Even cried on silly thoughts of being just like common people.
I know you’re a good friend. A good one. Perhaps the right one. I always dream the impossible although I’m not that positive when you’re not around. Everytime I look myself in the mirror, I only see a poor widow that came from complicated surroundings that full of ambitious bigots and hypocrites. You must’ve been know that I haven’t reached the point to make peace with myself yet. I’m just an impulsive, psychologically troubled, traumatized human being that you won’t ever be married to.
But you know what?
I’m just curious that someday if you’re gonna build a ship, is there any space and chance to fit me in?
And if your ship left me because I was too late to ask you or you simply don’t deserve me, could I find another ship that brings out the best in me just like yours?
Or perhaps, could we meet halfway in the middle?
Where would we go then?
So, why would I ruin it?
Why do we talk about ourselves to stranger?
Because they don’t know well about our life, our past, our background.
Because they don’t judge, they listen.. and it is so much better.
So, let’s keep it anonymous
Let’s be stranger.
I saw you flirt with the breeze as you breathe. I stole a look when you told me the story of seven seas. I knew from the first time I met you two years ago, you are something rarest I found in a million light of years. I felt the touch on the back of your hand when you still wondered if God knows that your effort is the most consistent, reliable thing in your life. I don’t even know what this kind of feeling is. You are just impossible. You told yourself you want to come back home, but you never know what is home. We met on the right time, yet you ran again. Why couldn’t I catch you?
I will be counting raindrops till we meet again. Hoping that I’ll catch you someday.
What if I told you my last name
What if I met you in the right place
What if I’m the nicest place you never want to go
What if I know that you even cared
What if I’m just a stranger you gave a second glance
What if I didn’t listen to your craps
What if I didn’t laugh at you silly jokes
What if I asked about your life
What if I didn’t give you my number
What if the thoughts in our heads became real
What if it really happened
What if it worked for both us
What if I stayed with you a bit longer
What if I met you sooner
What if we meet again
What if you read this
What if it changed any thing
At the sound of my name, those two worlds on either side of me collide, and my lips meet his. Time ceases to exist, and so, apparently does any logic that my mind is hanging on to. Logic would say that this is insane; every other fibre of my being says it’s right.
– Dianne Hardy
An honorable human relationship – that is, one in which two people have the right to use the word “love” – is a process, delicate, violent, often terrifying to both persons involved, a process of refining the truths they can tell each other.
It is important to do this because it breaks down human self-delusion and isolation.
It is important to do this because in doing so, I do justice to my own complexity.
It is important to do this because I can count on so few people to go that hard way with me.
Now, was it even real?