You're just like every other girl that I know. You come and go as you please. Its only when I don't think about you do you appear to me. Like as if you want something from me. I remember this time it was all very old Americana like. The jukeboxes, the soda fountains, neon lighting and plaid skirts. It was very "swell" and "dandy" as people of the era are prone to say. The fact that I was back in time crept ever so often into my consciousness. Any thoughts of irrationality and realization that one was in a dream of sorts was soon forgotten, intentionally or otherwise, when you walked in. Cue slow motion and sudden mysterious breeze that blows your hair in just the right way. You were gorgeous. You always have been. I've met you before. In a different time, in a different place, when you and me were different characters, different actors on the dream scape. As per your usual modus operandi, ours eyes meet for an eternity in a second, before the world comes flooding back with its swing music and period chatter, the cook in the kitchen yelling out orders. He looked like Al from Happy Days. I was expecting the Fonz to show up, leather jacket, rebel attitude and all, to engage in his constructive vandalism of the jukebox but alas he did not appear.
The soda in front of me was delicious to say the least. A chemical cocktail topped with more chemicals to create a chemical response on the palate. I think it was vanilla. The song in the background was Buddy Holly, though I forget which hit. Its the little details that I can remember, but its always you that I fail to capture. Something in the eyes, the hair, the way that you move, it's the little things that I notice and yet words fail to do you justice. Its apparent that armed even with a dictionary I cant begin to describe you. I stare as I usually do, with you perceiving me out of the corner of your eye but never engaging me. I approach you as I always did, that knot in my stomach turning, the beads of sweat starting to form, the heart pounding for the end of the world just to engage you in conversation. I start with the greeting, the anything but casual "hi" or "hello". You turn and you smile that damned smile of yours. I ask for your name as I usually do, and, like always, before your lips part to utter your sought after name, I am awaken.
Cursing, fidgeting, trying to grasp at the dust of a dream slipping away, I inevitably lost you again. Or so I thought
Drifting off again, I find myself back in more contemporary times. The sodas have been replaced with alcohol, of the consumption kind. The music had changed from timeless classics to present day flash in the pans. It wasn't in Al's soda shop anymore, it was a random house party with familiar faces. And you again. You were wearing what appealed to me, a simple sleeveless black top and fitted jeans. My dear, even if you were in rags I did still consider you the most beautiful woman in the world. You were holding a solo cup, casually talking with someone, I don't remember who. I felt a pinch of unfounded panic. You smiled your smile at him. I always thought it was exclusively for me. A familiar face passes me a drink, a jovial and fun face. I smile and thank him, feeling a little embarrassed for not knowing his name but thankful for some respite to distract me from you. I head out to the balcony, averse as I am to a noisy party full of familiar faces but unknown names, and to fight the feeling of insecurity when I see you and not know your name either. The sight of the city before me, the amalgamation of home and away and as yet unvisited places is breathtaking, and I commemorate the occasion with lighting up a cigarette. Even here, in Dream Scape, I can't forget the addiction. I contemplate as I usually do when I smoke, about you. I have seen you, I know you, but we're just two perfect strangers. The uneasiness that this is just merely a dream creeps back into my mind. Can I never find Nirvana, even if it isn't real? Can't I just have a little bit of reprieve from loneliness, even if I know it's not real? I'm in such a morose state of mind that I don't even realize that you're next to me, staring out into the city, contemplating, even as I am.
You catch me staring at you. You always do. You smile your smile again, just for me. You part your lips to speak again, and I wait with some trepidation for the dream to end again. But it does not. And I hear your voice for the first time. Your first words to me were "Do you have a light?". It is husky, casual yet full of confidence. I stumble around for the lighter, still dumbfounded to have heard you, to be interacting with you finally, after the endless chase through the Dream Scape. It's a black lighter. I ignite the flame, and you hold my hand to steady it while you light up your own cigarette. You take a steady drag and exhale. I watch with rapt fascination. You ask me "Why are you staring?". " It's because you just so.. beautiful" , I reply unsteadily. She smiles her smile again and thanks me. "But that's not the only reason is it, Ju?". She knows my name..
"No. I've seen you before. I see you every time I close my eyes. You're always there, wherever my dreams take me. But I don't know who you are. I've never even heard you speak, until now. I've chased you forever in Dream Scape."
She takes a drag again. "I know Ju" she replies in between exhalation. "I'm what you've always wanted in a girl. But you don't even know what I'm really like"
"If you're what I've always wanted, I don't see how that will be a problem."I realize that as I'm saying these words I'm inching closer to her. She wears a fragrance that seems familiar but again the name escapes me. Its intoxicating but in a good way.
She puts one hand on my shoulder and the other strokes my cheek. I respond by putting my hands around her hips and pull her closer to me. I stare into her eyes, and it as if the entire universe was blossoming behind those eyes. Her windows of her soul showed the happiness that could be had. The bliss coming from a woman who would never have trifled with my feelings. A woman who knew the true meaning of love.
"That's the problem with you, Ju. You love too easily." she says. I can feel her breath on my face. Her heart beating against mine.
"You're not making it difficult." I tell her. I can still hardly believe that I'm actually speaking to her, holding her, feeling her touch. "I can see through you. You're not flawed. You're not like the others. I feel like like I've known you my whole life. When I see you in my dreams, and that isn't often, I've longed to speak to you, to hear you, to feel you. Now I've caught you. And I don't intend to let go"
"You don't even know me.." she says, looking sad for once.
"I'm about to change that." I kiss her and she doesn't pull back. It's hard now to describe how it felt. There was an overflowing of emotions. We lost ourselves in the kiss. I wouldn't have cared if the world ended there and then. Her lips were soft. I stroked her back while she stroked my hair. A small sigh escaped from her. I felt a tear on my cheek and I realized it was hers.
"You don't even know my name" she said with a sad sigh, and she looked down. "And I know you know this is only a dream. So why are you so hung up on me? You don't even know me"
I knew it was a dream. I knew eventually I had to wake up. "I know," I tell her " I know you're not real. But I rather be with you then in the real world, so full of cruel women. That is why I love you. That is how I know you." I begin to feel a tear in my own eye. "Even if you aren't real"
I kiss her again. With more passion. I know it's about time that I got up. She breaks off the kiss, her face tear stained now, as mine is. She cups my face in her hands and smiles that smile for me again.
The night gives way to sunrise. I begin to feel as if I'm being pulled away from her. I grab at her outstretched hands and try not to leave but I know it's futile. Tearfully I ask her for her name.
"It's ......"
And that's when I woke up, my hand's holding on to nothing. I look around to see the familiar surroundings of my bedroom. She was nowhere to be found. I fought the urge to shed a tear and I reached for the cigarette instead.
"Motherfucker..." I muttered as I took the first drag of the day. And just like my dream this is how the post will end.. Abruptly.
Monday, April 20, 2009
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1 comment:
man...how the hell do you do that?
the way you write. These instances leave my mouth agape in bewilderment and awe.
You know that phrase, everything happens for a reason? Sometimes things actually do happen for a reason. It just takes a person with exceptional cognitive sensory to gauge a reaction; it leaves us ravished, it renders us meek and helpless, it stokes the embers that becomes the plateau of our fears, it parlays unto us an intellect, a muscle by which to channel and challenge that which we find become more insuperable as the clock lumbers along.
You're not far off Jools. Don't became impatient just yet. It breeds distress.
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