Who is he?
Posted December 2012: Who is he?
I dream almost every night now. Most of my dreams are about the same person. I think maybe it’s the little boy from the dream with the silver mirror and those shadow things, except that now the boy is all grown up. This guy has the same dark hair and intense blue eyes, but more importantly, there’s that same sense that I know this person, and he knows me, even though I’ve never met him before. I don’t even know if he actually exists, or if this is some kind of fantasy, like he represents my ideal guy or something. I won’t say he’s my dream guy, because that’s just cheesy and embarrassing. But he is easy on the eyes, and if he does exist, I sure wouldn’t mind meeting him.
The first time I saw this guy, he was standing in a garden under the shade of a large tree. I was walking toward him, and behind me was a tall stone wall that seemed like it was part of a castle. What’s crazy is that wherever we were felt familiar, like I had been there before, but seeing as I’ve never visited a castle in my life, that’s got to be part of this little fantasy of mine. Which is a shame, because that means the guy is probably a figment of my imagination too. I wish he was real.
When he turned and looked at me in the dream, I was so overwhelmed by him—it was like everything in me was drawn to him. There was that sense that I knew him, that I was connected to him—I could feel his spirit, his intelligence. He’s got to be real. Doesn’t he? I mean, how could I make up this whole other person? But even if he does exist, how would I ever find him in real life? I don’t even know his name.
After he made eye contact with me, I woke up. And then I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, trying to get back to sleep so I could dream about him again. I felt horribly sad, like I’d lost my best friend.
Lucky for me, I keep dreaming about this guy. Maybe he’s not real, but he feels real in the dreams. I’ve actually been going to bed early just so I can dream about him. I guess that’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? Chasing after someone who might not even exist? What’s worse is that Mom noticed the change in my bedtime, and actually commented on it. I don’t know how I kept from turning beet red—I just said I had a lot of tests that week at school and wanted to be well rested. I can’t believe she bought that. But then again, what else was I going to tell her? The truth? That I had to hurry and get to sleep so I could see some guy I have a crush on? Might as well ship me off to the loony bin right this minute. Maybe I’m going crazy, but I haven’t gone stupid. I can’t tell anyone about this. Not even Jon. He would laugh his head off.
© Melissa Eskue Ousley 2012