i was walking with a...
A few years ago, when I was a girl of 21, I had one of those 4th-dimension-warping dreams. The type that lasts well over a month inside, though in the waking world it's only been a few moments. In this dream, I was (for reasons unknown) living in Argentina with a family who lived in the countryside. There was an aging mother and father, a sister in her mid thirties, and twin brothers in their early/mid twenties living on a large farm with sprawling grounds.
During the course of my stay, one of the brothers and I fell madly in love. His name was Victor. I remember being awed with what he did with his hands--and no, I don't mean sexually. They moved expertly with a knife and shaped dough when he helped his mother cook; they were calloused from working in the field and garden; they were hypnotizing when he played guitar. I remember his soft eyes and his lips. His brother Julian (lulz I think my brain picked that name because it rhymes with 'hooligan'), on the other hand, was a bit of an asshole and was lazy. He was the one making snide remarks and making messes and being sort of a douchebag much of the time. They were rivals and could barely stand each other.
One morning I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee, alone while Victor was off doing something. Julian burst into the room and started talking all this crazy nonsense about how he was actually Victor and that Julian had stolen his body, forced them to switch. I didn't believe him, he pleaded with me and called me 'little kitten' which only Victor did, but I thought it was some elaborate joke and told him to fuck off. He gave up and left but told me that if he found out that I had been with Julian-in-Victor's-body before he could figure out how to switch them back, he wouldn't ever forgive me. Later, Victor returned and I told him about what Julian had said, and he laughed it off and I let it drop. We wandered the grounds quietly on a long walk and, after a while, got to making out leaned against a tree. Then 'Julian' appeared and started beating 'Victor' up until he finally confessed. Then he slapped me across the face and said he'd warned me, and I didn't listen, so he wouldn't ever forgive me, and he left. Soon after that, I woke.
I was that soul-crushing kind of heartbroken for days. I woke up before anything was resolved, so that's how it'll be forever burned into my memory. A short-lived but intense love, brought to a blunt and painful halt because I fucked up. I was pretty devastated. This man, who never even actually existed, took me weeks to get over in real life after that dream. Eventually Victor faded and was just a ghost of a boy who had once loved me intensely, then vanished.
This is relevant to how I am feeling these days. I'm stuck in deja vu, aching for a ghost. Only this time I don't know the hows or whys, and there wasn't a climactic moment of epiphany and face-slapping. Just silence. Thick blankets of quiet stretching across the continent and wrapping tightly around the muscle beating in my chest, squeezing it, strangling me.
During the course of my stay, one of the brothers and I fell madly in love. His name was Victor. I remember being awed with what he did with his hands--and no, I don't mean sexually. They moved expertly with a knife and shaped dough when he helped his mother cook; they were calloused from working in the field and garden; they were hypnotizing when he played guitar. I remember his soft eyes and his lips. His brother Julian (lulz I think my brain picked that name because it rhymes with 'hooligan'), on the other hand, was a bit of an asshole and was lazy. He was the one making snide remarks and making messes and being sort of a douchebag much of the time. They were rivals and could barely stand each other.
One morning I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee, alone while Victor was off doing something. Julian burst into the room and started talking all this crazy nonsense about how he was actually Victor and that Julian had stolen his body, forced them to switch. I didn't believe him, he pleaded with me and called me 'little kitten' which only Victor did, but I thought it was some elaborate joke and told him to fuck off. He gave up and left but told me that if he found out that I had been with Julian-in-Victor's-body before he could figure out how to switch them back, he wouldn't ever forgive me. Later, Victor returned and I told him about what Julian had said, and he laughed it off and I let it drop. We wandered the grounds quietly on a long walk and, after a while, got to making out leaned against a tree. Then 'Julian' appeared and started beating 'Victor' up until he finally confessed. Then he slapped me across the face and said he'd warned me, and I didn't listen, so he wouldn't ever forgive me, and he left. Soon after that, I woke.
I was that soul-crushing kind of heartbroken for days. I woke up before anything was resolved, so that's how it'll be forever burned into my memory. A short-lived but intense love, brought to a blunt and painful halt because I fucked up. I was pretty devastated. This man, who never even actually existed, took me weeks to get over in real life after that dream. Eventually Victor faded and was just a ghost of a boy who had once loved me intensely, then vanished.
This is relevant to how I am feeling these days. I'm stuck in deja vu, aching for a ghost. Only this time I don't know the hows or whys, and there wasn't a climactic moment of epiphany and face-slapping. Just silence. Thick blankets of quiet stretching across the continent and wrapping tightly around the muscle beating in my chest, squeezing it, strangling me.