(no subject)
In my dreams when I see you it's always from a distance. Even at its very depths, my imagination knows it would be unkind to my heart to approach you. Usually I see you walking parallel to me, on another street, our legs moving in time but our soles touching down in a different universe.
But tonight in my sleep, everything changes. I walk into a restaurant and I see you... and for the first time in years, you look back at me. My heart falls into my stomach and I turn to run away but the air has stilled and thickened and my limbs do not obey. I watch Melissa turn towards me from the seat across you and I am shocked. My head screams, "Traitor! My own best friend!? " But she's beckoning me over, and I know I've lost control. I watch helplessly as I slide into the booth next to her. It's like we're all friends again, and it's just another sushi night.
We eat in relative silence. You are now avoiding my eyes, sheepishly, because you know I've wondered for so long where you've been. I am squirming inside, because the last time you saw me things were different, and I can only wonder what I look like to you. The idea of you thinking I've been hurting myself because of you bruises my pride. Words stick in my throat.
Melissa gets up and says "There are things which aren't being said" And she leaves us alone.
Somewhere in my consciousness, I am reminded of all the dreams I had when we lived together, of us brushing arms or waving at one another through unopened windows.
"Matt," I begin..
We both flash back to the last time I called you Matt, instead of Nordy. It was in the beginning. You had asked me to find out if Josie liked you. When I pulled her aside, she said "Ugh, Sarah, he's a decade older than me!" I tried not to repeat it, but you followed me around the store until I finally turned to tell you. You read the bad news on my face before I could say it, and I watched the light in your eyes fade. "Really?" You said, without needing the words. You sat in the armchair of the history section and asked me so full of despairing wonder, "But, what's wrong with me?" My heart swelled and it took everything I had to resist the urge to hug you. All I could say was "Oh, Matt." Your head came up sharply- "Hey, you called me Matt!" I blushed and turned away. "Well, she calls you that and I was just talking to her....and. Look, you're fine. I promise there's nothing wrong with you."
Back in the restaurant we smile together at the shared memory.You ask how I've been. I blink, and look away. It's obvious how I've been. It's written all over me. In all of my dreams I've never had this chance. I look at you imploringly. It's my turn to ask the question you asked me years ago.
I start with admitting that I know how you reacted when I left for Italy for the summer and that's when I let myself believe we could be something more. How you begged Charlie to let you off shift to come say goodbye, and when he didn't he was sure you were about to cry. Or how when I considered staying there, and letting my friend from Naples find me a job, you asked Melissa to talk me out of it. You said you'd never missed anyone as much as you missed me. I came back because of these whispers I shouldn't have heard. I forgot going to school in London in a frenzy of wild romantic hope. It seemed natural and sure that things were happening. But all that happened was I came home, and you got further and further away.
So in my sleep, sitting across from the you my subconscious remembers, I finally ask, "why couldn't you love me?"
You look at me tenderly, but seem deeply sad. You shake your head and say "I have no answers for you, Sarah. I never will. These questions don't matter. But can I ask you something?"
"Please!" I am wishing, praying, squeezing my heart in anticipation of the tiniest scrap of insight. I don't want to hear that you have no answers.
"Do you?" You ask.
"Do I what?!" I am crying, and exasperated. I want you to say what you mean for once! It's my dream can't I have it this once?
"Do you love you?"
How frustrating that even in my dreams I won't let you change for my own satisfaction. It seems you say in my head exactly what you would if I stood outside your apartment door and demanded an explanation.
"Look at yourself, Sarah"
I realize you mean that literally, because you are sliding aside and I see myself reflected in the mirror behind you. I am stunned. I have no idea who that girl is. I don't even know if she is the present or future.
You lean over to me and whisper in my ear, "Wake. up."
But tonight in my sleep, everything changes. I walk into a restaurant and I see you... and for the first time in years, you look back at me. My heart falls into my stomach and I turn to run away but the air has stilled and thickened and my limbs do not obey. I watch Melissa turn towards me from the seat across you and I am shocked. My head screams, "Traitor! My own best friend!? " But she's beckoning me over, and I know I've lost control. I watch helplessly as I slide into the booth next to her. It's like we're all friends again, and it's just another sushi night.
We eat in relative silence. You are now avoiding my eyes, sheepishly, because you know I've wondered for so long where you've been. I am squirming inside, because the last time you saw me things were different, and I can only wonder what I look like to you. The idea of you thinking I've been hurting myself because of you bruises my pride. Words stick in my throat.
Melissa gets up and says "There are things which aren't being said" And she leaves us alone.
Somewhere in my consciousness, I am reminded of all the dreams I had when we lived together, of us brushing arms or waving at one another through unopened windows.
"Matt," I begin..
We both flash back to the last time I called you Matt, instead of Nordy. It was in the beginning. You had asked me to find out if Josie liked you. When I pulled her aside, she said "Ugh, Sarah, he's a decade older than me!" I tried not to repeat it, but you followed me around the store until I finally turned to tell you. You read the bad news on my face before I could say it, and I watched the light in your eyes fade. "Really?" You said, without needing the words. You sat in the armchair of the history section and asked me so full of despairing wonder, "But, what's wrong with me?" My heart swelled and it took everything I had to resist the urge to hug you. All I could say was "Oh, Matt." Your head came up sharply- "Hey, you called me Matt!" I blushed and turned away. "Well, she calls you that and I was just talking to her....and. Look, you're fine. I promise there's nothing wrong with you."
Back in the restaurant we smile together at the shared memory.You ask how I've been. I blink, and look away. It's obvious how I've been. It's written all over me. In all of my dreams I've never had this chance. I look at you imploringly. It's my turn to ask the question you asked me years ago.
I start with admitting that I know how you reacted when I left for Italy for the summer and that's when I let myself believe we could be something more. How you begged Charlie to let you off shift to come say goodbye, and when he didn't he was sure you were about to cry. Or how when I considered staying there, and letting my friend from Naples find me a job, you asked Melissa to talk me out of it. You said you'd never missed anyone as much as you missed me. I came back because of these whispers I shouldn't have heard. I forgot going to school in London in a frenzy of wild romantic hope. It seemed natural and sure that things were happening. But all that happened was I came home, and you got further and further away.
So in my sleep, sitting across from the you my subconscious remembers, I finally ask, "why couldn't you love me?"
You look at me tenderly, but seem deeply sad. You shake your head and say "I have no answers for you, Sarah. I never will. These questions don't matter. But can I ask you something?"
"Please!" I am wishing, praying, squeezing my heart in anticipation of the tiniest scrap of insight. I don't want to hear that you have no answers.
"Do you?" You ask.
"Do I what?!" I am crying, and exasperated. I want you to say what you mean for once! It's my dream can't I have it this once?
"Do you love you?"
How frustrating that even in my dreams I won't let you change for my own satisfaction. It seems you say in my head exactly what you would if I stood outside your apartment door and demanded an explanation.
"Look at yourself, Sarah"
I realize you mean that literally, because you are sliding aside and I see myself reflected in the mirror behind you. I am stunned. I have no idea who that girl is. I don't even know if she is the present or future.
You lean over to me and whisper in my ear, "Wake. up."