and the clock speeds up / and then it slows right down
The life that we have missed,
I think it still exists
I saw her in my dream last night. I wish I didn’t have to wait until I returned from class in order to record these things… So much is lost. But I woke up early anyway (I haven’t been able to sleep the whole night through lately) and some things were lost then as well.
I was folding clothes in front of the television when she came in. I was wearing a white undershirt and some weathered, comfortable jeans. I remembered seeing glimpses of her through half-open doorways and down hallways into rooms as she passed across the sliver of the doorway that I could see. I knew her name, but I didn’t know her name, and even when she introduced herself I still didn’t know it. I even had it written down in front of me and when I looked at the written name it made sense, but as soon as I would look up it would disappear from my mind.
And she was fascinating to me. Intelligent, with well-formed opinions and a bearing in her voice that I caught in every sentence. But that didn’t keep her from being playful—indeed, there was an ease in her manner that complemented my own perfectly.
And she was beautiful. Not an intimidating beauty, but so, so pretty nevertheless. She was average height, with shoulder-length, darker hair and rounded features. She wore a dark blue or violet shirt and indigo jeans. She turned her head to the side to watch the television for a second—I could still trace her profile, even now. She smiled and a light would appear in her eyes the likes of which I had never had directed my way before.
And she liked me. She wanted to spend time with me. She wanted to have conversations and carry on with me. She was interested in me. I never felt as if I were selling myself to convince her to spend time with me—there was a natural reciprocation, a give and take that just felt…perfect. She was intelligent and active and she wanted to be with me. I couldn’t believe it then, and I have even less success trying to wrap my mind around the sensation a few hours afterward.
The funny thing about dreams is that in them, most of the time, I feel what I should feel in a particular situation and then half again. Not only that, but the ecstasy, terror, disgust, unease or what-have-you will extend far into the day provided monumental distractions don’t arise. I was in a glow driving home an hour ago from class, thinking about the girl in my dream, just buoyed by the thought of her and how for a little while she existed.
I can still conjure up fragments, gestures, syllables even, but any hope of continuity is gone.
On with the day…