Dream Girl

“I’m glad I met you '' were the words that always escaped out of her mouth in the time I had known her. Most humans would find this phrase sweet, and at the time I did too. However, one day it began feeling as if it were some type of warning and fear arose at the idea that one day, I may never hear these words again. It wasn’t specified in her determined tone whenever it slipped out, which is why I could never wrap my head around the reason it would always send such chills down my spine. The feeling like a cold-blooded snake slithering up my spine, making its way up and wrapping its body around my ribcage as it vexed me with a haunting stare, leading me to a hypnotic state as I fell to a sudden and cold, lonely death. Cold and lonely; these two words I often repeat in my head. Maybe the snake was attracted to a type of heat. A need for love and disdain for such feelings of loneliness and frost. Love too strong it kills. The more the thought occurred, the less lonesome it assumed. I hoped maybe I could find my snake even if it were all an illusion, a mere trick bound for chaos and pain.

I somehow can’t remember how we first met, the memory foggy and unreal as if it had happened in some other reality somewhat similar to a dream. At the same time, it had felt as if it was more complicated than us simply meeting one day. I do know, however, she approached into my life when I was most vulnerable. It was the summer and the school year had sucked all kind of need for human interaction I would ever need and all I wanted now was to free myself with isolation. I had some craving for it like an addict scratching at their skin, pleading at any higher being, begging for more. On their knees and groveling to the sky… maybe you were mine. Both my sky I pleaded to in some need of bargaining for more and my drugs for which I sighed in relief when replenished. You filled up my craving for isolation with an obsession for you. The craving switching and worsening. I was normally repulsed at any kind of interaction. School seemed to extract any life force in me, making my face twist and turn at the sight of other people and leaving me with the feeling as if I were spending my days living in the body of a corpse, rotting more and more as if I were some zombie trying to navigate my way in this possessed, dilapidated vessel.

I don’t remember much about my time with her even though the feelings remain heavy and constant. Maybe they’re a reminder taking place of my unattainable memories. One memory I do remember quite vividly is one of the first times we had spent time together. I was shocked at my immediate answer when she requested it. I had planned a summer free and away from others. How did this girl so effortlessly take me in? Her magnetic energy attracted me, in some way the feeling, freeing. She had picked me up in some old broken-down truck and we had decided to go to the beach, not because we were particularly interested in it, but had no other destination in mind. When we got there, we sat around a bonfire and used our lighters to start the fire. She then offered me some beer she had bought earlier at a 7/11. I accepted and offered her a cigarette back in hope it would have the same effect. I’ll never forget the view and the feeling of the flames. The heat reflecting off us made me feel as if I were on another planet, with just her and I. I felt so warm, maybe it was due to the concerning distance we were near the fire, or the energy she seemed to radiate. I’m sure she was watching the dark waves unfold over the full moon and the spell-binding sight of the wood exploding in flames. Even due to all this excitement I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off her. She was so pretty. Her movements all perfect and to me, felt as if my eyes were repeating every one of her movements on repeat in slow motion to better dissect them. There were no words I could use to fully explain the pull she had on me. Euphoric maybe. Like a new discovered drug, much stronger and far more addictive than heroin or morphine. Compared to her these drugs were child’s play.

Every time I realized how fast I was falling into her I tried to pull back but ended up falling harder. Falling into her eyes, her warmth, her words… her. Falling metaphorically and literally. That feeling of floating seemed to follow me when I looked her way, dropping me into some pit of nerves when we finally locked eyes. She was my new addiction. Life lasting, sending me to trances and leaving me with a continuous stream of thoughts of her, never ending. She made a home in my brain and created a new section just for her settlement.

I loved thinking about her. Every aspect of her I made sure to memorize and repeat through my brain to repress the cravings. My hobbies soon became thinking of her. I’d imagine a world separate from just us. How pleasant, basking in her warmth all day as my soul escaped my body, pushed out by the ever-growing feelings of love that got far too big for my body to contain. Anything would be fine with me if she were there with me. My dreams intertwined with my reality and my habits of maladaptive daydreaming ran its course throughout the day, blocking any other type of action, leaving me helpless. How pleasant it would be, relying on her for everyone of my failures, guiding me out of the dark. I would imagine all sorts of scenes. Maybe we’re in our own house with a pool and we're blasting music and dancing around, all feelings of anxiety and nervousness washed away by each other’s glee. I could also imagine us in a more scenic place. I had always dreamed of dying in a field of flowers, blood splattered and staining the white color. How pleasant, to destroy something so beautiful. Flower Fields now seem like the perfect place for me to express my love for her. How pleasant, how pleasant. The overgrown gardens hovering over us as we stare into each other’s eyes and begin kissing. Although, what a shame it would be, the scent of flowers and grass diluting the smell of her. I’d much rather take her scent to anything else. I could picture myself putting Daffodil flowers on her doorstep everyday in hopes of her never forgetting me. She said those were her favorite flowers, but I wanted more.

More, more, more. I often grip at my floorboards in a stance of prayer and look into the sky for mercy. More. I want more of her. Please, please. Facts of her reduced my cravings and such feelings of intimacy would send a rush up my brain leaving me lightheaded and defenseless, a subtle feeling of warmth rushing to my head leaving a slight smirk. More. Like a drug I wanted to raise the dosage till I’m weak and drowning, nerves failing to process the extent of my feelings. I’d do anything to prevent the harm of her. Completely devoted to her preservation. How could I keep her beauty everlasting? The rushes she seemed to give me remained addictive and when I began running out of substances, she started slipping away from me. Oh, how I need her. The visions moving out of my head as I began left with my own thoughts. Her in my reality soon became unfeasible, so I resorted to my dreams. I would dream of us and nothing else. The only humans in the universe. Holding hands, walking through space and touching the stars. Sleep and dreams were all I had left of her. “Why won’t this illusion last?” I asked myself. Before I knew it, sleep felt nothing but a void in the dark. Nothing left of her. Cold and lonely once again. Forever longing for her warmth.