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Eight years have passed since we parted in that blued and whited-hued dream space. Yet, I still see flashes of you.
Though I never fully saw your face, I remember your body pressed against my own, our tongues entanglement, the passion our meetings coupled with. Never could I control the flow of my mouth enough to tell you everything. Nor could I make out every word you said, but I remember your smile. Your blurry smile set behind your long black hair. I wish I knew the color of your eyes.
Your mind was stronger than my own. The domains are your creation or a betwixt of both of our memories. The time you carried me to bed. I couldn't fully connect. I was desperate to say something. I was in fear I'd lose that moment. You would soothe me with a soft, deep voice as if you knew what was in my heart.
But, then, it became harder to connect with you. Less often were we visiting far-off places I'd never seen. Your touch became less vivid and even worse, your timbering voice seemed muffled to my ears. Your face became just a chest. You must've cut your hair because I could no longer see it or wonder what it felt like to touch the silken fullness.
Then I became afraid. Nightmare after nightmare of you chasing me, trying to keep me pinned under your darkness. Fear pumping my body into a frenzy. So many times, you turned into an entity that seemed so desperate to lock me into your subconscious. Whatever happened to you seemed to bleed into our connection, and I became hunted. I remember the darkened street with a lone lamp shining its eerie yellow light through old oak trees. Waking up into the scene in the back of a car. Your face appeared in the window. It was the eyes wide and white-blue; I jumped away, realizing I was bound by the wrist. You threw open the door, your face blurred, and you began to pull me from the seat.
I struggled, mind and ethereal body, to change the dream. I only managed to change the setting. You still pushed me. Pursuing me as I ran with sand beneath my feet around a bright derelict house with billowing white curtains torn and tattered as I entered the house, feeling your essence on my back like a predator ever stalking.
Rounding the corner, I am stopped by blood on a table. In the center of all things lies a body mangled and broken. I look up without air, and you are standing there stoically with a face I can't quite see. Those eyes that couldn't have been yours are gone, but my fear turned to madness, and everything went black as you faded from our wavelength, sending me the rest of the night to deal with demons and paralysis.
Our meetings became even fewer and harder to maintain. I thought you were forgetting about me. Left behind and swept up in the prominent reality. Craving the passion we once shared, but we drifted apart.
Our last meeting was otherworldly. Set in a beautiful place, I solely focus on you. You brought us to something magical. I could feel with the nightmares that this was your domain, as the images weren't something I could change. I was simply raised to maintain myself and my awareness. Everyone was at peace and in loving pairs.
But you felt different, calmer. Matured even as if you'd changed a little. But they were still just as lovely to me. I don't remember the conversation. I remember the music, but it lasted in those darkened early morning hours, and for a long time, we were just together. Holding hands. Walking side by side. We reached the end of the path, and I felt the pull of exhaustion gripping me away.
I turned to you and said I had to go. You looked confused, and in turn, I also, for some reason, became confused. My voice came out clearly then. It was the first time, with it, a sense of dread. We knew then. The realization dawning onto our faces, I came close and kissed you. I swear to this day, I can feel your face in my hands. I wished you all of my love and well wishes. For you and your reality on the other side.
I will never forget the look of terror on your face, mixing with confusion and loss. The tears that streamed down your face were a mirror of my own. But as my body lifted and faded, you reached a single hand out to me, but I could not reach back. So I left, fading away with a soft, sad smile.
Waking into reality, I wept. My soul-crushing heartache bursts in on itself. My God, how that pain went so deep. I knew. I knew without a shadow of a doubt I'd never see you again. And it killed me. I've never been the same since. Never. Always, a hole was left in me since that dawn. I hardly sleep, I barely dream, all for the last eight years.
A man emerged to me in my social media. Singing melodically about mutual dreaming. Pinning for a lost lover, car crashes, and darkness. At times, he curses her for leaving or not taking him with her. Angered for her, tempting him with a connection that felt more than soul-deep.
And I thought, for a sudden moment.
It seems as though, for eight years, the dreams have all stopped. I won't take you back; I can't answer your call. Our shared wavelength was broken as our paths stretched beyond the veil and were rendered lost. For eight years, you built your empire of adoring fans and slipped through my fingers, as you were destined to do. All the while searching for me through your lyrics.
What now? Nothing. Perhaps, we can meet again in the dream realm where the pressure of reality seemed so unreal, but undoubtedly. Nothing will come of me hearing your words that open fresh wounds in my being, bringing such melancholy. Destiny never intended for us to be together. I'm glad you're doing well for yourself. If I haunt you now, it's through your memories as an apparition, right?
We shall never be anything more than dreamers.