I dreamed of you again. You popped into my mind and couldn’t be rattled loose. I got a one word text last night and for one fleeting moment I thought it was you, trying to say hello. The phone number didn’t match and the word didn’t make sense and yet thoughts of you flooded my mind. Where did that come from? Where did you go? Where are you now?
In my dream you were alive and well. In my dream you didn’t know me. Just as I, surely, would not know you in these waking hours. In my dream you smiled at me from the back of a car. You were not alone. I walked on never looking back. Was that meant to be a sign? Moving on, pushing on. Keeping on without you. And to think there were so many chances to make things different. Chances not taken for a reason.
The dream tells me something. Tells me I haven’t forgotten you. Tells me 20 years is 20 years and 20 is a number that means very little to the memory. Has it been that long? The life of a child turned adult? I can’t imagine it and yet I live it. Every day. The dream tells me something else. I still love you. In my heart of hearts (whatever that means) I carry the pedestal on which to place you on whenever I remember you.
To be on your street again means I’ve lost my way momentarily. My road map is temporarily unavailable. The signal is lost and I am confused. But, I’m not worried. I’ll find my way back to reality soon enough. And when I do, I won’t dream of you.
and i won’t be going to the gym.