I Hate Dreams

[Play the song while you read it.]

So there I was in my bedroom reading when his head appeared through the door. It was a huge surprise to have him here, and so I said it. He gave me a bright smile that tickled the bases of my knees; he seemed cuter than ever, with his hair pushed back like a picture from the 1960's, or if you prefer being a bit cynic, like a New Rave kid so common these days. But there was nothing common about him; he knew more about Literature, Philosophy and Art Cinema than anyone I'd ever known. Of course that at first it shook my ego, making me uncomfortable before him and his awesomely clever friends... but a drink or two later I was more eager to learn about his world than comparing mine to his, so I just went with the ride... but I guess I rode too far and ended up passing out and puking my t-shirt. In my mind, all he had in his was that I was a silly rabbit, so thus was my surprise when his head appeared through the door.

He and his grin came towards me and hugged me saying I was missed. I love when that happens: when I'm missed. It always gives me these little butterflies like the warmth within after a sip on cappuccino. His hug was as warm as that, from outside to inside and this beautiful desire possessed me when the embrace started and lingered all the while I had his arms around me. You never show up we'd have to come down to you, he said walking from me to my bed and sitting on its edge. He lit a cigarette and I only watched him. Why does he attract me, I wondered silently while I watched sun beams reflected on his arm's white skin ricochet through the whole room.

I had his smile again and lit myself a cigarette as I climbed the bed and lied behind him; he turned around and lied beside me, our faces in front of each other. The light now wasn't so special, but I could see myself reflected on his pupils. His voice told me the news from the city I was reluctant to return until I asked about his ex and their current relationship. Last time we talked they were giving a break, and I must confess that that lit a spark inside me, but he instantly said he loved him and missed him terribly. And that was repeated again, except for the dramatic adjective.

The problem of asking such things to a person you're friends with but is interested in is that you risk having to hear a whole monologue about the other person's predicates. Bingo! He started telling me about the last time they met and even though my eyes were fixed upon his, my mind had gone miles and miles astray from that point, until it was abruptly pulled back into my bedroom as I felt his lips eagerly touch mine and his tongue penetrated my mouth. A volcano erupted inside me causing my arms to spill around his neck as his tied my waist and pushed me into him.

His beautiful brown eyes were shut, but at the moment I opened mine incredulous he opened his in perfect unison; and those eyes shone into me provoking an inevitable smile between our ardent kiss. And there we laid, his head resting on my chest as if his head ears and mind penetrated my bosom. My romantic mind flied away wondering how such magical sensitivity would approach a boy like me and we layed there till we fainted into sleephood.

When I woke up he was no longer there and a sense of emptiness possessed me... at that moment I knew none was real that it was soon to be vanished and lost into nothingness. But still I went after him; he could not walk out on me that way, I thought; but the truth was that that moment with him gave me a huge sense of possibility, this little bug that settles itself into our hearts whenever something go out of the natural order.

Later I found him and with a hug he told me he loved his ex... I must've seen that coming: men with history all over again. And then he said: "but I'm so afraid of falling for you as well, of having my foundations rocked, my linear path shuffled that I panicked! But I won't leave again... at least for now..."

Suddenly I felt a hand weighting on my shoulder, I looked and there was nothing; but then I looked again and I saw my father. Do you have any laundry, he asked.

I was awake.

[Song: Cocoon - Björk]