Lately I have been feeling extremely down and melancholy. With no obvious reason. Or so I thought; until last night I dreamt of someone I loved. Someone from my past.
A boy I knew from my youth. You could say he was, and still is, the love of my life. I still remember his birthdate. It’s the same as mine. I can almost recall his features. I know where he lived, and the names of his family members. I still feel sad when I remember that I will never see him again.
In my dream I saw him so clearly. I asked my friend to take a photo of him, because I didn’t want to forget his face. Again. I seem to be forgetting his face over the years.
I met him through a boyfriend. He lived in the same street, and they were friends. One day he came knocking on the door, and when our eyes met, I knew. THIS was love. That feeling you get when nothing else matters. Just like in those old movies, or in heart-stopping romances, like Wuthering Heights. He knew my thoughts, he finished my sentences, we had an almost supernatural connection. But I wasn’t free. One night I was visiting the boyfriend, but he wasn’t back from work. The boy saw me, and asked me if I wanted to walk with him. It felt wrong, but so right at the same time. So we walked, and walked on, a very long way. Suddenly, he took my hand, and I felt at home. We talked about everything, and decided that I would tell the boyfriend, and then we would wait a respectable amount of time, before being together properly.
I finished with the boyfriend, and it was sad, but it was the right thing to do. Then I waited.
But what I was waiting for never came. He was killed in a traffic accident. He was riding his motorbike too fast. Of course he was. He was always a thrill seeker. That’s why I loved him.
Over the years I have had many, many dreams about him. He’s always elusive in them, always slightly blurry. Always out of my reach. And it still makes me sad, over twenty years later.
A lot of people might say you should be over it by now. You’d think, wouldn’t you? But some people stay in your hearts I guess, and no matter how much growing up you do, they remain there.
Happy Birthday to you, my darling memory…
wherever you are.
Prosetry Me 