13 October 2011

You feel like you're going where you've been before

The moon was full and the garden was suffused with light.

I dreamed.

I was in a crowd. I am frequently in crowds and I am uncomfortable in crowds. It could have been any place, any large gathering: a baseball game, a concert, an arena...

("Green Monster," my every day waking brain whispered. "Whatever," I told it, even though I found myself looking around for any evidence of Red Sox paraphernalia. No, just people across the way who appeared to have been tucked into a horizontal display, like a large-scale, human-sized card rack. This didn't even make me blink.)

You were there, somewhere in the crowd. I hadn't seen you, I wasn't expecting you. I just knew. Sometimes I just know. You occupy some part of my brain, someplace I try to keep you hidden away. I bring you out when I need a boost, when I am unhappy and I need warmth and a little joy. Of course, you burst out on your own, too. Sometimes I hear you. Sometimes I think of you, a flicker across synapses, a flash of memory, when I'm busy with the business of my life. It's a reminder that you, too, are a part of my life. Often, it seems you know this better than I do.

I couldn't move--the crowd was an obstacle--but I craned around heads that seemed like immobile card cutouts, until I caught sight of you in the distance. I moved left, moved right, trying to get a better view.

("And what?" whispered my waking brain, sounding smug, jeering a little. "Shut up!" my dreaming self told it. "You make a hash of this every time you get the chance. Let me do this.")

But I lost sight of you. I moved right, moved left, unsure if you'd seen me.

I moved right...you were there, but looking elsewhere.

I dodged to the left, around the silhouetted head blocking my view.

You were there, looking at me through a break in the crowd. It was the smile, the look in your eyes. It was the reassurance that I shouldn't need anymore, but I do. I do.

I tried to push through, but you were gone, gone as fast as you'd gotten there.

I held my breath a beat, wondering if you'd return, and when you didn't, I turned and moved away through the masses that no longer held me back. I held tight to sight of your face, the happiness bright in your eyes and curving your lips. I memorized the flash of your strong teeth in that smile, how your hair fell, the pleased but slightly mischievous expression on your face.

When I woke, the moon was setting in the western sky, Jupiter sparkling above it.

Go listen to some good music: "Talk" from the album X&Y by Coldplay. Sometimes the subconscious mind is a hoot. The Boston reference has everything to do with something that's been a bit of a struggle the last few days, and has to do with baseball only in the most oblique fashion. And reassurance? Yes, I've needed some reassurance in recent days.

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