In
my dream, there are no such things as Reflections and Bodies. Or
maybe I am the Body. Life is so much easier. I can go anywhere, say
and do anything I want, without having to make sure that my Body was
doing the same thing. It is so great. I am my own person. And a
better person. I have courage and confidence. I can say the things in
my mind.
I
was admiring myself in the mirror. Then I look around, and I'm in the
park. Darren's there too. I tell him, without saying anything, that I
miss him. And that I want him back. We hug tightly and we twirl.
There are flower petals and butterflies flying in the air. It is so
beautiful. I never want that moment to end.
Then
somehow, we're rolling in a grassy field. I end up under him. He
stares lovingly into my eyes. I reach up to him and we kiss for a
long time. We start taking off our clothes. I'm wearing a white dress
and a white cardigan. Darren is wearing a black shirt and black
jeans. We probably look like a yin yang, on top of each other and
wearing black and white. Perfect balance and harmony. My cardigan is
off and laying crumpled in the grass. I lifted up his shirt. And
stop.
His
entire body is a ruined mess. He stops moving, and his arms drop to
his sides, limp, but I can't take my eyes away. Slowly, I stroke his
scars, feeling every bump and very occasionally smooth skin. But
everything I touch starts bleeding and melting away. I realize that
too late.
He
opens his mouth in a silent scream, and disintegrates into nothing. I
stare at his empty clothes in my lap.
I
start folding the clothes, casually, as if nothing happened.
At
that point, I force myself to wake up. This nap did nothing, except
to make everything worse. I need a therapist. Really.