Dream a little dream of me
The parents have left. The house is all clean, everything is tidy, in its right place. As soon as they left, I felt an irresistible urge to do something about all that tidiness. I picked up some dirty laundry and threw it over my bed. There. That's more like it. Like my life. I don't like re-genesis. I don't like the shiny floor. I don't like the organized cupboards. I liked the nightmare of a dirty apartment. All this does now is to make me realize how worse off the rest of my life is.
I sat next to her today, on the way to work. Her hair was wet again, the fragrance as divine as ever. The smell was so thick, I could almost reach out and touch it. If I had, it would have had a nice, soft, moss-like feel to it. Herbal. Natural. She shied away from the sun. I wondered if I should ask if she wanted to swap seats. I didn't. I've been sitting behind her occasionally, for the last few months. Today, I sat next to her. And felt sad, at a dream which had ended.
It's never easy to tell someone, that sometimes, love just can't be. Should I try? "Its not that I don't love you. I do. In my own limited way. Its just that I can't. We can't. And you know it." Does that make me sound like a creep? Does that make me sound like a heartbreaking bastard who doesn't deserve the attention he gets from this marvelous woman? Does that make me sound like someone who just doesn't want to wake up from that dream ?
Rude awakenings. I hate waking up from dreams. I hate new beginnings.