There was a moment’s hesitation, and I felt the wind whisper softly from behind. The sky was gray, the air felt gray, and time was slow. The years felt like slow pools of thread growing fast before me, wrapping up my mind in their dizzying array. Sometimes, I feel like I made up certain things, as if certain things could not be real. I remember the warm sun, I remember summer and the heat. I remember the skin of little tart oranges and the sour juices running down my chin. I remember vast, wide trees but here they are, only a few feet above me.
And things change, I have changed. This world of worlds within my head has changed.
I’ll tell you a secret, maybe it will reach you. I don’t dream of you anymore. I dream of others, of strange prophecies I never remember.
Sometimes I turn, and I begin to wonder, but then I forget and I forge on. Different characters make up this new dreamscape, women and thieves, and strange, mechanical things.
I’ll tell you another secret, and this one will never reach you. I have been waiting for you, I wait you for you. I return and hope and wish I’ll see you. I wonder what you’ll say, I daydream of how you’ll look, what you’ll say, if you’ll even recognize me. And here I am, dreaming of something and I can’t remember your name. I’ve often thought you were the one, I’ve thought that once I met you again, once I’d remembered then everything would change.
I keep thinking I’ll have you again. But, my dreams have changed. You haven’t plagued my subconscious for months, you have not plagued the creases of my bed, the whispers between words unsaid.
My sweet love, whom I’ve never seen since I turned thirteen. You are remembered in the words between my stories and the unrequited passions of angsty teens, but, my dreams have changed and I must grow with them.
I waited for you, but…I don’t think I need to anymore.
And a wind gathered before me. Pools of soft thread gathered and weaved themselves ’round me, embracing rather than choking. I cannot make out one memory from the rest, they remain in silent, chaotic array. I feel the years of time wind their hands ’round my distant memories of you. And I remember silent secrets shared between rusted gate. I remember stories shared and never touching. I remember forgetting you, and wishing I’d remembered, at least long enough to…I see you standing at fourteen, only yards away from me. A moment’s hesitation and I move on. I will move on, and we walk away.