“I dreamed of you.”
“You’re kidding. I’m here all night long.”
“I know. I love you so much, I even have to have you during both my conscious and unconscious time.”
“As if having me here with you is not enough.”
“As if having you here with me is not enough.”
I held her hand and there were five seconds of silence before I asked if she wanted a glass of water.
She loved the way I smile.
“It’s like a happy kiddo smiling,” she said if I asked for a reason.
“There’s no way this beard gives me a child look.”
She let stars shone from her eyes, unleashed the sun to rise from her lips and burst colors to her cheeks. She invited angels to sing.
“Shall we dance?”
She gave me that frowning-in-confusion look.
“Shall we dance?” I repeated.
“Because it’s a good weather to dance.”
She laughed again. But then she gave me her hand. I gently embraced her beautiful waist. Our feet slowly walked on green grass. Trees hugged us with its shady shadows.
We were dancing in silence for the first two minutes before I started singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars. I loved hearing her laugh thereafter. She loved laughing.
“You look so happy,” I told her in a decent afternoon at a quiet beach.
“You make me happy.”
She nodded. Sunset’s light spectrums colored her pale face. All this time, all I care about was drawing smiles on the face.
She laid her head on my shoulder. I heard her catching breath. I held her hand tight.
“Let me see your face,” she said.
She always got what she wanted.
“I’m gonna miss you so much. I guess,” she added.
“You have to.”
She chuckled. I smiled.
“That smile is a little kiddo’s smile.”
“Well, Darling, how could this beard..,” She slowly closed her eyes. Her smile was still there. Like a twilight.
I was catching my breath.
I was pulling myself altogether.
“How could this beard…”
I was shaking.
“…gives a child look?”
I eventually managed to finish the sentence.
“O, my Darling….”
A massive tide rushed in my chest, streamed down my veins, stormed into my throat. I couldn’t breathe. The salt water fell down through my eyes. I was drowning. I was not even trying to swim. I was drowning in loss and sadness.
March – June 2015
PS. This writing was written from three words — dream, beard, tide — given by a friend.