I had a dream. You were next to me. My parents were there, and you were saving me.
I generally would be opposed to the idea of being a damsel in distress needing to be saved, but your presence and undying support was what dreams are truly made of.
You assured me I was strong, that I could do this. I could tell those that have done me wrong that they were no longer needed. In this dream we were a unit. An impassable storm. Those around us couldn’t help but be trapped, that is, within the awe of us. The perfect storm. Perfect for each other in all the right and wrong ways. Everything in its right place.
I can’t help but question whether this had an underlying message. Perhaps my subconscious was telling me you need me to move on from you. To stop hoping I awake to a message from you. Perhaps the message is something completely meaningless, a joke, a rant, a rambling; or perhaps it’s something heartstopping, a confession of the ardent love I have always wished someone would reciprocate. Whatever this message I wish upon is, I am still hoping I meant more to you than I have been made to believe now.
This dream was so real. You reached out for my hands, calming the trembles I had found myself victim to. Your hands, they had this calming effect. You had brought me to my knees. Your eyes this bronze whirlwind of a universe, enchanting me and intoxicating me with every look. Your eyes had a way of tracing me in the most tender manner. the chilling gaze of those who wish ill upon me, cut deep, but your presence made it all alright. What a peculiar thing. To be completely okay, only with the presence of one person. Alas it was only a dream.
I awoke to nothing. I hope to fall into a slumber again. I hope someone awakes me when you call. I’ll either wake up to your call, or never wake up at all.