A Dream Sequence

Nowadays, it is only in dreams that he sees him. 

In the middle of a confused babble choreographed by his unskilled imagination which takes place in a nonsensical portion of his brain, he would make a sudden appearance. And it would shock him. “Understand that this is only a dream”, he’d find himself saying in an undertone, like birthing a prayer, a sort of dire comfort. He would stare at him hard, checking if every bit of him is real and wait till He dissolves into a mere trick of light. But he never does, not yet anyway. 

Upon seeing him, he nods in recognition and offers him his right hand to which he only responds with a nod.  Panic seized him. If he should respond with more than just a slight gesture of the head, he feels that he would break into a query of what? , why? and where?, an interrogation over his 7 years disappearance.  

He likes to feel safe this time. And safe he is in the distance implied by a nod and a face empty of the feelings that begin to take shape within him. He avoids eye contact, avoids conversation yet feeling every particle of him in proximity and admiring him in his periphery like a moving picture.

 The dream grew into a collective dissonance of talks, laughter, gibberish and horrible music as if purposely orchestrated altogether. More and more people came in to join the boisterous symphony. The place suffered an excessive cast of people with caricatured faces. He felt lost and out of place in the contrapunctal noise. His head spins, dizzy from the chaos.  And what could happen in a heartbeat’s time, a mystery that takes place only in dreams, took place and caught him in another unprophecied pain. 

He disappeared, vanished into the mist of things between then, now and never. 

He holds a fury, a blend of hurt, confusion, frustration and panic. 

Yet he doesn’t search for him. Not anymore.

“Understand that this is only a dream”

 

He clenched his hands into small fists and shuts his eyes tightly to recover from sleep.

  

In dreams, just as it is in reality, He disappears leaving no promise of another appearance, not a breath or a word between them. He is once again struck with hurt, bereft of a life he would’ve wanted to linger in a bit longer. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you asleep, dreaming” as opposed to “Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up from sleep.” He seems to tell him.