Suddenly it seems like the whole world is calling your name, and you’re feeling so good you practically float on home. And when you go to bed that night, the last thing you see before you fall asleep are her eyes, and the last thing on your face is a smile.
Maybe you were wearing a new jacket that you had bought with your last paycheck. Or you had dreaded your hair over the summer. Or you broke your arm skateboarding with friends. Or got a girlfriend the first week of school. Or maybe you weren’t even a person. Maybe you were an small black and white drawing on the wall, or a neat and lovely-looking flower getting soaked by the rain at four o’clock in the dark grey of the afternoon. Whatever you were, whatever we were, we walked away smiling and maybe not saying but all thinking the same thing: it felt good to finally get some credit for who we were.
And, so, last night, I finally thanked her. In the dream she didn’t have a face, so she wasn’t saying anything, but as I recognized the silence, I wrapped my left arm around her, held her close, and gave her a face. Then, I woke embracing the sun in her place.
Living grows round us like a skin to shut away the outer desolation. For if we clearly mark the furthest deep, we should be dead long years before the grave. But, turning around within the homely shell of worry, discontent, and narrow joy, we grow and flourish and rarely see the outside dark that would confound our eyes. Some break the shell. I think that there are those who push their fingers through the brittle walls and make a hole, and through this cruel slit, stare out across the cinders of the world with naked eyes. They look both out and in knowing themselves and the mechanics of everything they breath. Perhaps we all have our little slits in the wall that we peer through when we are lost and searching. And, maybe, this hole provides us with too much information. I have chipped away at the circumference of my knowledge, and I can finally slip through the hole. I can see two versions of this world: the dark and the light. The dark is just dark and if I stare at it for too long, I’ll go back in time and slip into a deep depression that has a way of taking over me. But, the light is a burning passion that comes to me like the rain to the trees. This is when I escape. This is when the dream becomes real. It’s lovely to run the meadows up and down. There’s this sense of immortality. You never grow weary, your breath stays consistent—your entire body working as it never had within the gates. I’ve made it to the sea where I believe few have run to discover. The sea breeze has always brought me clarity. It’s hard to get enough oxygen on land. It’s hard to breath.
When I come back, It’s hard to look you in the eye because of what I know. You have no idea how real it is. It prevents me from opening my mouth for fear of what you’ll say. Are you the angel of the dream or are you still consumed by the pressures of this world? Though, who am I kidding? I’ve never been one to look you in the eye, so maybe you don’t notice me. But, perhaps you’ve been discovered. And, maybe I’ve run your landscape a thousand times without you knowing.
I avoid telling you this face to face so as to avoid sounding contrived, but I know this to be true. I think people open up their hearts when you sit down with them. You look them in the eye and see them for who they are and who they want to be. You see their future, past, and present (in that order). You realize that the material separating you two is only temporary, and as you open your mouth, this barrier slowly fades like wind on water. What I love the most, though, is how musical your silence is. Without perfectly defined parts, the songs flow vividly, like we’re able to plug headphones into your head, and are somehow allowed to listen to the music inside. I hope to meet you with physicality one of these days because I know we’re meant to. I pray for you. I dream of you. I cry for you. I laugh with you. And, I admire you far too much to let you pass without a glance. We’ll stop in our tracks. Our eyes will smile at each other and do all the talking.