3 Seconds of Bravery (INCOMPLETE)

“So what is it that’s been bothering you?” Dr.Rose said as he adjusted his glasses. Lying on the couch, I sigh and reply,

“Well…it’s a dream,” I barely stopped myself from stuttering, “about…a city. I can’t exactly describe it but it was beautiful. So beautiful. And it feels… like that city is so dear to me, the reason why I live.”

Dr.Rose nodded, noting every detail.

“I can hear your voice growing weak and your eyes…watery,” he said as he looked at my face, “the dreams haven’t been very kind to you, haven’t they?”

I covered my face, trying to stay strong. But my shaking voice did me no favors.

“They are. I started dreaming about this city last week. I’ve missed work since then. Every time I get remotely distracted, I can feel the dream coming back in my eyes,” 

Dr.Rose tried to interject, but he wasn’t able to do so amidst my rambling.

“I tried to read, tried to workout, but no matter what I do, that city is always there. I just can’t shake the feeling that it’s important, like I’ve lost something so dear to me.”

“Something you’ve lost…” he muttered as he circled something on his clipboard, “have you lost someone recently?”

“Y-yeah,” I mumbled.

“Really?” he said as he adjusted his glasses again, “...if you don’t mind, can I ask for some details?”

“I-I broke up with my girlfriend. I know it’s not right but…I just want to call her again.”

“You mean boyfriend?” Dr.Rose asks as he tilts his head in confusion,

“No. Girlfriend,” I say with a straight face: one that I didn’t show in a while. I wasn’t expecting to come out of the closet to my therapist today, but I guess it is what it is.

“Oh…” Dr.Rose only said. An awkward silence pierced the room, but it broke apart as Dr.Rose laid down his clipboard and said,

“Life is so complicated isn’t it? All our struggles…it just seems so hard to conquer.”

“But what if I told you it’s not that hard at all? In the crossroads of life, we don’t need Moses himself to split the red sea, but only 3 seconds of bravery.”

“The 1st second, you think about what there is to earn. What the treasure is, so to speak,”

“The 2nd, you think about the opposite. What do you have to lose?”

“The 3rd, you make your decision. Is the reward worth the risk?”

“Think about these 3 seconds of bravery whenever you think of your dream or about calling your ex again. I can’t promise it’ll solve all your issues, but it’ll help out.”

“...I’ll try,” I muttered.

When I laid on my bed that night, sleep did not fall before my eyes, but only her smile did. I opened my phone then stared at the single word that has been poisoning my mind: Claire. With my finger not even an inch away from the “call” button, Dr.Rose’s words about the 3 seconds of bravery came to mind.

1, the reward…perhaps words of pity? Maybe a “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

2, the risk… words of indifference from her distinct tone of indifference. If not for that, maybe she’ll scream at me at the top of her lungs.

3, considering every scenario in mind, I turned my phone off and buried my eyes under the blanket. It just simply isn’t worth it. Her face lingered for some time, but eventually sleep took over.

That night I dreamt of that city again. All golden and lovely in its youthful blazing glory, over the emerald fences were rainbow towers of ethereal azure amidst the glamorous gardens grown by the graceful nereids dancing a poised duet. The sight was something truly to behold, and it was a great shame that the sight of it faded into memory once I returned to reality.

But tonight something was different. Not the city itself, but just outside the borders of the city was a cafe, one that ringed nostalgia. The gentle fragrance of Espresso, the sounds of the mixers grinding the coffee beans: all of it was so nostalgic and played with the strings in my heart that I didn’t even know existed.

 But the classical music playing in the background or the soft emitting of chocolate flavor all seemed so flavorless and pale in the sight of a familiar face wavering on the table around the window. Her exquisite stygian eyes were fixed on the pages of the book, her hazel hair falling like waterfalls on to her shoulder: it was none other than Claire.

I slowly approached her, with both a mix of awe and sorrow in my eyes. I slowly felt my eyes growing watery as I slowly reached my hand out to her. It really was her!

Unfortunately, she did not seem to share the same sentiment as I did. Looking uncomfortably and barely making eye contact, she said,

“...Do I know you?” 

Taken aback by the sudden answer, I took a few seconds to myself to put the puzzle pieces together. The sound, smell of nostalgia, the cafe itself and Claire: all of it was just like the day I first met her on November 21st 2021. 

“Oh, I’m sorry…it’s just…um…” I stuttered as I blushed in embarrassment. I actively avoided eye contact, stroking my hair behind my ears. I expected her to stare at me with an annoyed look, but just like the actual day we first met, Claire’s welcoming smile melted me of all my worries.

“It’s ok,” she said as she slowly pulled out a seat next to her, “I was just about to get lonely. Come, sit here,” she gestured toward the seat. I took several deep breaths and gently smiled, enjoying her companionship.

The rest of our conversation went just like the day of November 21st. We talked about our jobs, our family, our dreams, everyday stuff like that. 

“Y’know, I always wanted to be a painter since I was young,” Claire said, “but I don’t think anyone really likes my pieces.”

I acted out a gentle squint, pretending as if it was my first time hearing it.

“Well…why won’t you show me next time?” I said, just like I did three years ago that day. Her face brightened up, as she said,

“Really? That’d be great!” and just like that, we promised to meet exactly a week later at her apartment. In hindsight, I wondered how she could be so naive. It was her first time seeing me at all, so how could she trust me so easily?

Just as we made our promise, suddenly my dream shifted. The classical music from the cafe morphed into the busy crowded sounds from outside the apartment windows, the coffee on the table to pencils or paint brushes and the smell of gentle chocolate shifted to chemicals from Claire’s paint. Instinctively, I knew that our day of promise arrived.

“I know, I know,” Claire said as she turned towards me, “it’s amateur work at best.”

I gently walked forward to the paintings displayed on the wall. The aquamarine landscape of the river in front of her apartment, the small cafe that we were at a week ago and the emerald gardens just outside the borders of the city. She was right: the work was amateur at best. I was no artist, but I could even tell that the rough strokes of the paints were out of place.

But out of this amateur work, there was beauty. The whimsical flaws juxtaposed by the grand vision it desperately attempted to grasp…it was so…peaceful. The little dents and inconsistencies on the Canvas brought me little joys that professional work just did not have.

“It looks beautiful,” I said as I turned back to look at her. Her face blushed in embarrassment and she avoided eye contact with me.

“Oh…thank you…” she said. A few seconds later, she stared at me back, her jet-black eyes hypnotizing me in nostalgia once more. I did nothing but smile back.

After that, my surroundings faded once more to the little moments we shared together. Our short walks around the park, dinner at the nearby Italian restaurant: all things like that that I missed so much. We spent new years together at my apartment, ticking the seconds down until the clock hand hit midnight. Just as the time changed from 11:59 to 12:00, we performed a cheer with our wine glasses.

At last, the fateful day finally arrived: February 14th 2022. For the Claire of my dreams, she would not have any idea how important this day would be for us. But I very well knew the meaning behind this date: it was the day we were no longer just good friends.

“Hey,” she said as we sat next to each other silently on the park bench, “I’ve been meaning to tell you that…”

“I know,” I said before she could finish her sentence, “you’re lesbian aren’t you?”

She simply nodded, and we both knew that we were destined to be more. And it was also then when I was brought back to reality.

For the next few days, I continuously dreamed of the city, but more importantly I lived once again my life with Claire. Our first anniversary, our dates on the beach, all nostalgic days as such.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said as she