Top Ten Dreams I've Had This Year

1. I cracked open my eyelids, taking a look at the dark clouds that dotted the sky above me. The day was rather nice, despite the rain it promised later. A slight breeze stirred my hair, letting it dance over my shoulders. 

We were twenty-one, and I held him as he sobbed in my arms, confused and broken and trying to fit together all of his pieces. 

We were twenty-three, and with help from his parents, he had saved enough. I sat in the waiting room impatiently, and when he came back from top surgery, he the biggest smile on his face. 

I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to stem the tears that had started to gather. I’d promised I wouldn’t cry, and I couldn't break that promise. I couldn’t. 

We were twenty-five, and we were living in an apartment in the city. Life didn’t seem so eternal anymore, but we were happy, and even if money was a little tight, we made it work. 

I turned around and rested my forehead where his name was inscribed, tears suddenly falling out of my eyes all at once. They sunk into the earth that held his bones. 

We were twenty-six, and I was back in the waiting room, but that trip wouldn’t end with a smile. Neither would the next, or the next, or the next. 

I dug my hands into the dirt, wishing I could feel close to him again, wishing he was back in my arms, where he’d be safe. 

We were twenty-eight, and his hair was gone. His cheeks were sunk in and his eyes looked hollow. His skin was pale and waxy, and he was weak, far weaker than he ever should have been. 

We were twenty-nine, and I was jobless, spending almost all of my hours at his hospital bed. The chemo wasn’t working. 

I smiled at the tombstone, pain ripping through my chest, even if it was more bearable than before. Even if there was a circle in my ribcage that had felt empty for a long time. 

I was thirty, and I spent a year in a depression so deep everyone thought that a piece of me had died when he had. 

2. It was like the music was thrumming through our veins, moving through our blood, and all I could see was her face in front of mine, and we were spinning, spinning so fast, but her eyes were shining, and I was laughing, marveling at the girl in my arms.

It was summer, but the heat couldn't touch me, not anymore, because there was a fire in my bones, and I vowed right then and there to never let her go, never end this moment. 

Can't we just stay like this forever?

Her hair was whipping behind her head, and I so desperately wanted to kiss the smile on her face, to feel that smile against my lips. Her dress was billowing around her body, and by the gods, she looked so beautiful, and I could hardly believe I was even allowed to witness it. 

There was a beat pounding in my ears, in sync with the one thumping through my heart. Her hands were in mine, and I didn't know how long we'd been going in circles, only that every moment was perfection itself. 

I didn't think about what would happen once we stopped, once the music ended. I only drowned in the color of her eyes and made a promise to never stop loving her, no matter what happened. She was staring into my eyes, and I had never seen her so happy before, and I was transfixed by the sheer joy etched into the lines of her face. 

And then we started slowing down, and I knew deep down the song was over, knew it was time to let go. 

But I couldn’t, wouldn’t let go of the girl in my arms, and once our feet finally stopped moving, I tugged her arm towards me in one motion, and perhaps someone was smiling down upon me, because she fell into me perfectly, like she was born to be there, and I didn’t think twice before leaning my head down and kissing her soft lips. 

3. The figure sighed. “What is your question, human?”

The little girl, no more than twelve, looked up at the hooded figure in front of her. Her eyes were wide, but there was no fear in them. 

And from the sweet voice came the question, “What do you remember?” 

Flashes of memories. Voices, sounds, explosions. Feelings. Burning hate and overwhelming love. Touch. A stinging slap, a soft caress. Sights. Empires burning to the ground, a single face, a hand reaching out. Smells. Rotting flesh, a field of flowers. Tastes. Cool water from a stream, the burn of whiskey. 

“No one has ever asked me that before.” The figure’s rumble had quieted, and now he spoke in a whisper. 

The girl’s head turned to the side. “That’s sad.” 

“Indeed.” The figure set down the nine-foot scythe and settled onto a rock.

“I will tell you my memories. But I warn you, child, they are not pleasant.” The figure’s head was aimed somewhere in the distance, and all the girl could see was darkness swirling within the hood. 

The girl didn’t respond, but only sat herself down next to Death, her eyes staring at the skeletal hand that was braced on the rock. 

“I shall tell you my earliest memory. It is pleasant, but it does not have a happy ending. Are you ready?” 

“Yes.” The girl’s feet were swinging. 

4. My hands curled into talons, and my teeth grew into points. My shoulders stretched out and grew until sinewy wings burst out of my back. My pupils were entirely black, and my hair was on fire. 

A terrifying sight, one that any mortal would never be able to face. For you see, when the human mind is faced with something too terrible to comprehend, it forcefully scabs over the memory until nothing remains but an empty spot. 

And I was terrible, and this was something I was well aware of. I grinned, for this was exactly what I wanted. To be hated by some and feared by all. To be something they would be afraid to put their hands on. To be something they would hesitate before touching. To be something that would haunt their dreams. 

And there was nothing that was "hauntingly beautiful" about me. There was nothing that shined or glimmered. There was absolutely nothing 'pretty' about me. And that was how I wanted it. I wanted them to run when they saw me. I wanted only terror and fear, not intrigue. I wanted them to feel what I had felt every day of my miserable life. 

I wanted to hear them scream. 

And no one could stop me. 

5. I shoot upright. I’m sitting on the floor of a building, and from what I can immediately see, it hasn’t been very well taken care of. The bricks are a gross blackish color, and everything has a damp feeling to it. Even the air feels damp and stale. There’s no furniture in the room or any other normal appliances. No lights, windows, nothing. Just where the Hell am I? It sure isn’t Heaven, but it doesn’t seem like Hell either. I push myself to my feet, looking down at my body. Everything seems to be fine, and I’m wearing the same clothes that I di- wait. Am I dead? I patted myself down. I seemed solid enough. But then where was I? I had a sudden idea and pinched myself. I could feel myself gripping my skin, but no pain issued from it. I pinched harder, and still nothing. Taking a wild swing, I punched myself in the arm, and still nothing. While I could feel my skin touching my skin, no pain was caused by the action. I guess that decided it. I looked around me, and the room I’m in is tiny, although there’s a plain wooden door right from medieval times straight across from me. Maybe it leads outside? I walk up to the door and try to knob. It’s unlocked, and swings open easily. 

6. “Yeah, well, maybe I never wanted to love you!

Maybe I never wanted the hugs and kisses, and late nights spent on the phone. Maybe I didn’t want the movie dates or the nights we spent watching the stars. Maybe I didn’t want your form curled around me as we slept. Maybe I didn’t want your love. 

Maybe I never wanted to love in the first place. Maybe I never wanted to fall in love at all.” 

“Why wouldn’t you want to fall in love?” His question rang in the silence following my proclamation. 

“Ha! Why would I want to fall in love? Why would I want to put the power of my life in someone else’s hands? Why would I want to spend sleepless nights staring at my phone waiting for a text back? Why would I want my happiness to depend on their approval? Why would I want to give them my all, and have them crush me in their hands? 

You ask why I don’t want to fall in love? I don’t want to fall in love because I don’t want someone to have the power to destroy me.” The last sentence was a whisper. 

“I would never hurt you. I love you.” His hand reached out for me. 

“That’s exactly what he said, too.”  I turned, and walked away. 

7. “I wish you could see it.” I turned my head to look at her. 

“See what?” Her mouth was turned up in a smile. 

And there were so many things I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her that no, it wasn’t going to last, and no, there are no happy endings. Life is no fairytale, and there is no such thing as a perfect prince. 

I wanted to tell her to stop being so goddamn dependent on him because one day you won’t be together anymore, and that’s just how it is. I want to tell her to learn from my mistakes, to learn to depend on yourself before others. 

I want her to know that loving herself is more important than anything else in this world. And I know she says she sees the stars in his eyes, but darling, so did I, and sometimes, when I dream, I still see those same stars. But now they’re filled with hatred and I don’t want that for you. 

I want to tell her that if she leans this heavily on him, when he’s gone, she’ll be gone too. But I know my words would mean nothing, because ‘it’s different for her’,’ he would never do that to her’, ‘they love each other’, and ‘they’ll make it through anything’. 

And I want to tell her I said those exact same things, and now the only time I speak to him are in my nightmares. 

But she looked so happy, and she was so filled with joy, and she thought they were going to last forever. 

And so all I said was, “Nevermind. Let’s just enjoy the stars.” 

And she turned her head back up, and we did. 

8. “You don’t- I needed you, and you weren’t there!” He backed away, his hands pressed against his chest as if that might stop the emotions from ruining his heart. 

“But I’m here now, mon trésor.” The other guy was approaching, his eyes full of pain, full of regret with the knowledge of what he had done. 

Unspoken words seemed to flow between them, and galaxies full of feelings passed over their faces. The other man wanted nothing more in the world than to take him into his arms, to kiss away the heartbreak that was so clearly illustrated in his actions. 

But he wasn’t allowed to do that anymore. He wasn’t allowed to hold him as the sun went below the horizon, he wasn’t allowed to bring him a mug of coffee in bed. He couldn’t hold his hand in the park anymore, and he couldn’t run his hands down the body he knew so well. 

“It’s too late for that.” His words were a whisper, and his voice cracked when he said them. His face and posture were crumbling, and he looked like he might fall and dissolve into the very ground on which he stood. 

“No.” The other man’s face was full of horror, full of fear. “No- I- I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, just give me one more chance, mon étoile. I can make it right, I know I can!” His hands reached out in front of him, reached out to hold the man he loved more than life itself. 

Too late. 

9. We're together again. The two of us, only us, on a beautiful grassy hill. I don't know what's in the distance, but it doesn't matter. When it's just us, nothing else in the world matters.

She whispers something in my ear, and I smile, caught up in the sunshine that is Her.

She is beautiful, and she is worth more than any amount of gold or wealth in the world.

10. Darkness. Pure, neverending, darkness. I drown in it.