I DO NOT WANT TO DREAM OF HIM


I do not want to dream of him. Or dream of laughing with him. I do not want to dream of having my heart pounding with joy at the sight of him. He is not what I want. I do not want to dream of him at all.

Yet there he was haunting my dream last night. All night til I was woken by the shrill of my phone. Only there was no call.

The dream began, with smears of darkness. Of cyan red and smoky gray. The dystopian air reeked of death and despair. The lands were chiseled by war and age. Patches of grass and bare trees were bleak. The camps were made of small families, wanderers and orphans.

I had been painting the landscape. An escape from trying to survive all the time.

I could hear angry shouting. I looked up from my painting to see Chad striding by. He looked older. His blond hair had gotten greyer. He was angry because his sons had ignored their duties. He was mumbling angrily to himself. I chuckled as he shouted again for his sons.

I had seen his sons earlier, both heading out to the abandoned playground where other young adults would hook up. I had debated on telling Chad on that, but decided to follow him instead. I was curious as to see what would happen.

He heard my footsteps behind him and turned. He scowled. “what are you doing?” he asked me.

I shrugged. “Getting a work out.”

He glared at me.

He turned back and stalked back up the hill. He found his sons each with a girl. He groaned. I chuckled. “A chip off the block”

“What are you doing, dad? following us?” the eldest son cried.

“Trying to hook up with a girl, dad? that is so gross. They are young enough to be your daughters!” the other one chimed in.

I tried not to laugh.

“I am not here to hook up with anyone!” Chad was furious. “You two get home now!”After much grumbling the two young men started down the trail back to camp. Chad scowled at me, as we followed them down.

“What are you doing? Are you laughing?”he demanded accusingly.

I snorted. “Couldn’t help it. You looked like a big baby throwing a temper tantrum!”

He glared at me. “Fuck you, Rebecca”

“Nah you wish.” I sighed.

Chad stopped walking. “No seriously, what are you doing? Following me?”

I shrugged. “I told you. I am trying to get healthy. Working out. Man, these trails are working my glutes.”

Chad stared at me for a second, and he roared with laughter. “You? working out?”

I tried to look offended. “Yes. Healthy. I’m trying to be sexy for my man.”

Chad laughed even harder. “Sexy? Sexy? What do you know about sexy?”

He had me there. I sighed. I held up my index finger and thumb and squished them together. “This much.”

Chad sobered, “I miss this,” he murmured, his gaze softened.

I frowned. “what do you miss?” I asked in confusion.

“I miss you, because you’re so funny you make me laugh, I can be myself. and you’re so crazy”

2 thoughts on “I DO NOT WANT TO DREAM OF HIM

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♥writing was all I had, all I’ve ever had, the only currency, the only proof that I was alive. Memory.♥ each of us has a story to tell. Leave your thoughts. Leave your comments.

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