...My
heart skips a beat. The wind is knocked out of me and suddenly I’m
standing alone, completely surrounded by countless blurred faces in a
familiar open foyer from my past. I stand motionless in the midst of
scurrying adolescents, clutching my books to my chest. Sheepishly, I
look up from my polished mary-janes. I see you for the first time, again.
You sit across the way, thoughtfully gazing through
the glass towards the open field outside. I find myself in a trans;
unable to move. You glance at me in the reflection. Your brilliant blue
eyes lock with mine. Your face softened into a sweet smile mirroring my
own. We had a connection, you and me; brief as it were. For five whole
seconds we were the only two in existence and in that moment, I knew the
image of your intoxicating allure would forever be burned onto my heart
like an insignia I would be sentenced to live with for the rest of my
life. I would now have to force myself to stay cloaked in the shadows of
lies, never to let on to my own true feelings within. For that, I hated
you.
I woke in a cold sweat again, breathless. This is the forth night in a
row I have been visited with this bitter sweet vision. Why do these
dreams, these flashes of a dead reality, keep haunting me so? Dreams,
they say, are visions of the heart’s deepest and truest desires. I’m
beginning to wonder if perhaps maybe they are right.
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