A dreamer falls in love with an idea
I had the urge to look at the picture once more. A very peaceful picture. A sleeping man. A glass table. The soft afternoon sun on his quiet smiling face. A very simple picture. Yet it incites so much emotion. My heart wreaking havoc inside my chest. A faint tingling running through my body, my arms, my hands, my palms, my nails. I just want to feel your hair, I tell the picture. But it just softly smiles back. Perhaps not even for me.
I feel that this is all too temporary. In a week it will leave me. But as it lasts, my mind can’t help but wander. How would life be like in some parallel universe? I will not be as I am. You will be a different sort of you. And who knows? We might find ourselves walking toward each other. In a crooked path along the beach. Along cobblestones the color of rust. Your eyes lifted toward the afternoon sky, looking beyond the shadows that you cast at your feet. I shall wear a white sundress and a woven hat with a bow made of lace. I shall hold a basket of roses with my left hand and with my right, wear my aviators. I shall look as if I were looking past you.
But then again, we are here in this side of the earth. You are you. I am me. I don’t feel anything towards you. But I love the idea of you. Perhaps to emulate you. And this is where it should end.
First Published on February 18, 2012