The Moment of Realization

Have you ever dreamt of someone you shouldn't have? Someone that is unattainable? A short story about unrequited love and the way the subconscious knows before you do.

          I don’t know what it is about you, but there is something that keeps drawing me to you. Maybe it’s your smile. Maybe it’s your witty retorts to stupid questions. Maybe it’s the adorably cute facial expressions you make. Maybe it’s the fact that you are 100% completely and hopelessly unattainable. I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about you. I never thought about you before in this way, but this past week you have entered my dreams three times.

The first one you were just a mere familiar face in the crowd when I sang in Times Square. We had no connection like the second, yet there you were smiling up at me as I sang my little black heart out to a crowd that inspired me to keep going after my set was over. The look on your face said it all as my voice rang out into the diverse adult alternative crowd. Belting out my own stripped down acoustic rendition of “A Sky Full of Stars.” I wish I could have heard your voice there, but that would have ruined the suspense for dream number two.

          How in the world did we get here? Well I know what I’m doing here, but why are you here in my dream again? Why is The Voice stage here at my grandmother’s? Why is the camera on me and what the hell am I supposed to do? I’m not supposed to be here and you’re definitely not supposed to be here with me. Maybe I am supposed to be a musician. Maybe I am meant to be on The Voice and inspire those without hope. But what if the light shining on me isn’t to follow my dreams? What if that light was my subconscious telling me to follow you? I mean I sang “All of me” on the stage only to be cut short thus killing my dream. Yet as I sang I felt your very presence around me. Yes you looked on with my family, but the presence I felt wasn’t one of a close friend. Hell even in the real world, I couldn’t even consider you that. You’re just an acquaintance. A co-worker. No, this presence of you was more than that. It was that of a lover. Not just that cheesy Nicholas Sparks lover that a myriad of adolescent girls drool over. This type of presence was something so great that even Hercules couldn’t stand to be in the presence of something so powerful and beautiful that this world has yet to recognize. I felt this love in my bones as I sang the last note. Hell, I felt it when I got eliminated. The truest form of this love came when I was sitting on your car and you came over to talk to me about the elimination, long after the crews left and all that was left was the stage and a shattered soul. I remember when you pulled me in for a hug as you laid your head on my shoulder, planting a kiss my right cheek. I looked down on you as you blushed ever so lightly at what you had done. At the moment I couldn’t believe how someone who is incredibly beautiful, in-and-out, gave me (someone who is just plain ordinary and boring) a kiss. I wanted to kiss you in my dream; I wanted to convey what I was feeling at that moment to you when your phone went off and my aunt and uncle came out. Whoever it was that texted you, set you over the edge. You went from Aphrodite to Ares in 0.4 seconds, crushing the simplicity from our tranquil (and dare I say) romantic rendezvous moments before. You immediately opened the door, as all four of us got in; I saw this burning in your eyes. I did not know what it was that upset you, but the passion that radiated off your body gave me an indication that this ride was going to be a long one. I don’t know who pissed you off, but the amount of loathing felt in the atmosphere of the car was so thick that you would need a chainsaw to cut through it. After a while of driving, we were around a beach looking for an escape. I expected to stop; however, you drove past onto a dock as we flew past this majestic tunnel and into the ocean. I was terrified, but you seemed so sure of it all that I looked at you again as the sun was glistening off your face through your window, accentuating your natural beauty. Without thinking, I entwined my hand with yours as we glided over the ocean to the other side of the world. I turned away as you looked down over to our hands as you focused on what this change of atmosphere would cause. From the corner of my eye, I swear I saw a glimmer of hope and smile finally gracing that beautiful face. “Are you feeling better now?” I finally managed to ask after what seemed like years without a voice. “Yes, now that I’m with you.” You replied as you looked at me with this ever so endearing smile that I wish would play upon your lips in real life. My heart stopped at such a beautiful and heartfelt comment. Before I could even respond we were at this mall (in what I believe) was Houston. You didn’t say another word to me as we raced through this mall, looking for a way home. I remember following you as we flew past restaurants (one in which I swear my twin brother was a maître d), clothing stores, and a floral shop which led us to the roof. I remember looking up at the sky, observing the infinite number of stars as nightfall came crashing down around like the waves of a typhoon. I called your name so that we could lie down and talk about the intricacies and vastness of the universe, but you were not there. I screamed your name into darkness, hoping you would show up, but the blackness swallowed up my screams of yearning as you were nowhere to be found as the dream faded into oblivion.

          My final dream of you was as vague and hopeless as the dream for all bigots to disperse into thin air. We were at work and nothing was going well for me that day. I casually played jokes on our co-workers and created a sense of comical relief after we failed an inspection and numerous people rudely belittled me in front of managers. Needless to say, I was over it. I remember walking to the break room and seeing your slumped figure on one of the black chairs with your back turned towards me. I wanted to touch you to see if you were ok, but something was wrong. All the managers were in there and kept asking me questions, but you remained still. Silent. As if you were made of stone, I couldn’t bear not having you acknowledge me the way you had in our previous encounters the nights before, but for some reason you weren’t meant to this time. Maybe, just maybe, you were never meant to.

          It’s been a week since the last dream and I can’t get you out of my mind. Partially because you haunt me when I sleep and I work with you on a daily basis. I’ve never felt so close to someone, yet so far. I try to recollect my thoughts before these dreams occurred, but every time I do I realize it’s to no avail. The moment of realization has sunk in. My baron soul is and has been in fact hopelessly and utterly in love with you this whole time we’ve worked together. Maybe, just maybe, someday you can love me the way I love you. Maybe. Just maybe.

 

Reviews

[A. Amos]

I love the title and the whole read good work my friend