14/04/14

by avrillorenzo

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I vividly remember the dream I had last night.

I was walking down a familiar route, the route which would lead me to where my friends hang-out: a stone table with benches. I had ‘meeting’ running through my mind while walking. When I got to my destination, I saw my friends at one side, and a few people who I didn’t know on the other. There was something like an invisible barrier between the two and it was only when I sat down that it broke and the two parties on either side started interacting.

I saw a pack of cigarettes. I even remember the brand: it was one of those cheap ones that you can get anywhere except for 7-11s. I was shocked to see who was holding the pack and offering it to a new friend I just made, who was sitting beside that person. Then, it was offered to me and I declined. All of a sudden, everybody stood up and moved to another stone table near by, except for me and that person.

It was you.

All of a sudden, my friends started teasing me and you were grinning at them. I was seriously confused as to how that could get such a reaction from you. When you turned back to me, your pack was gone and you were looking at me expectantly. I searched the bag I had with me and didn’t have my pack. So I told my friends that I was going to buy a pack and I asked you to come with me. You said yes and started walking away. Without even looking, I called you and told you to come back. I never got an answer. I continued to riffle through my bag, looking for something. I figure it was probably my wallet since I was to buy a pack of cigarettes. It probably took me a while since I remember repeating what I was doing, exactly from opening my bag to riffling through it to pulling my hand out. That happened around six times before somebody sat in front of me. When I looked up, it was you. You said, “I’m back.” I replied with, “You came back.” And you smiled and said, “Because you told me to and you waited.”

We were well on our way to buy a pack when the scene morphed to the grounds of my high school. We walked up to this one vendor who’s pretty popular back in my school and you asked for a pack of my cigarettes, not the one you were holding. While we were waiting for him to give us our purchase, you asked me if I still had some of the things you gave me. I immediately answered no and you were disappointed. You took out your wallet and opened it wide for me to see. The pocket where you put pictures in was vacant, not like what I was expecting: your picture with her. I thought you were going to pay for my pack so I started looking for my wallet. But then you tapped my shoulder and then took out a red and green yarn braided together. You dangled it in front of me and I smiled. You still had it.

Suddenly, we were walking back to where the stone tables were with the route I was on at the start of my dream. It rained but we weren’t hit by it. It was like we repelled rain drops so we were dry. I don’t know why, but I started walking faster, leaving you behind. All of a sudden, I stopped when I felt you grab my hand. I looked back at you and there was a slight change in your demeanor and appearance: your hair’s a little longer and you looked tired. You even had new clothes on. I felt a sort of panic and I’m not sure what from. But all of that disappeared when you said these three words. The three words that I last remember before waking up.

“Wait for me.”

What a dream. The weirdest thing about it was the fact that I knew what you were saying even though I didn’t hear you say them. I just saw your lips move and I just knew what you were saying. It was only then that I realized I forget what your voice sounds like. That’s probably the reason why I didn’t hear you say the words you said. And only then did I realize that I want to hear your voice.

I’m not sure how to interpret that dream. Dreams have a lot of interpretations. But the funny thing is, I’ve had a lot of dreams about you, some the same and some different. I still dream of you. But this is the first one that I’ve ever shared because maybe it meant something. Funny how I don’t actually have the things that you gave me anymore. That bit was probably the only truth in the dream. But you still had that thing, the yarn, which I doubt you do because you found it ridiculous and useless.

I’ll probably never know if you still have it. I’ll probably hear your voice and never know it’s yours. I’ll probably never know what you want me to do about you.

Probably.