His name was John
I had one of those soulmate dreams again , the last one and the very first happened in highschool, some eight years ago. I can't remember much of this guy, just that he was not so tall and very lanky, he wore khaki cargo shorts, a blue t-shirt and brown birks. They said his name in the dream, and I knew it when I woke up. But right before I was supposed to tell someone about him, as in the second before I was to say his name, it slipped my mind, as if my unconscious sucked it back to an unreachable place for safe keeping.
Last night, it happened again. It wasn't the same guy though. This time he was tall and straddled between lanky and buffed. When I say tall, I mean so much taller that I would have to tiptoe so I could kiss him. He seemed very sweet and caring, like the first guy, and he was a gentleman opening doors, pulling out chairs... Plus my family loved him, particularly my lolo, if he was alive that is. They gave me that you-have-to-marry-him look. He was also strong, at least strong enought to carry me, which he had across the street for some reason I can't remember.
His name was John.
Last night, it happened again. It wasn't the same guy though. This time he was tall and straddled between lanky and buffed. When I say tall, I mean so much taller that I would have to tiptoe so I could kiss him. He seemed very sweet and caring, like the first guy, and he was a gentleman opening doors, pulling out chairs... Plus my family loved him, particularly my lolo, if he was alive that is. They gave me that you-have-to-marry-him look. He was also strong, at least strong enought to carry me, which he had across the street for some reason I can't remember.
His name was John.