The Dreams That Were Dreamt

Chapter Eleven: You Sure We Haven't Met Before?

In a bar sat a young man where he had sat many of times before. Three quarters into his first beer he calls his friend he was supposed to meet up with, at least, one quarter ago. The bar is loud enough that a private call can be made without going out. The bar is quiet enough that he can make out what his friend is saying. She will not be able to make it. Something about Reggie needing help with something. He pretends that he is fine with it. He fools himself that he is relieved by the news. Now he could go home and spend the night, like many others, missing the love of his life. 

But somewhere between the third quarter and the phone call an older man has entered the frame, two stools away from him. Are you out of luck? They had seen each other before. They had seen each other before in the sea of people around the bar or on the dance floor. Never had they exchanged words before. The men throw jokes and flirty comments to and fro at each other. The younger tells the older one that it's his birthday. The older convinces the younger one to accept a drink from him. The younger one allows it. He goes to the bathroom and when he comes back another beer is waiting for him.

They sit close to each other and speak for a while. They sit closer to each other than friends would. They are both aware of the how different they are from each other. Difference didn't govern relations like theirs. They talked about their day, how they both welcomed autumn after the hot summer, that one liked beer but not the other. They laugh. And after the first silence the older one takes a good look at the younger one. He asks:

''You sure we haven't met before?''

''Positive.''

They hadn't met before, inasmuch a mirror image wasn't the same as its reflection. The older man couldn't look the younger one in the eyes. He tried, but it was more painful than he anticipated. It was all connected in the strangest of ways. If only they could rid the moths of their faces. If only they could see everything as it was. 

And then, all of a sudden, the young man feels dizzy. It hits him like a truck. He feels nauseous and faint. Sound turns into noise.  He tries standing up but has to grab onto the bar in order not to fall over. Are you alright? Had a little too much? The young man can't form any words. He can barely even think them. But the older man offers to help. He was an ER worker after all. The older one lets the younger man cling to him as he leads both of them out. The younger one tries to think of ways to communicate where he lives, in what direction to walk or what bus to take. He won't have to. It isn't until he is placed in the backseat of the car and he looks into the older man's eyes that he realizes what is happening. The older one mouths the words 'I'm sorry' and the door closes. As does the younger one's eyelids. That's how it took off.

And when they had sheathed his whites and his being no longer was cased, he finds himself on a hill by the woods with a woman. She wore a face aged beyond her time here. He tried finding parts of her face that would place her in a memory of his. He knew he knew her, but not how that was. But they had walked together before, once upon a dream. They share words, or rather feelings translated into words.

''And it hurts,'' he starts. ''It hurts and it hurts and even when it doesn't it does. What's the point? What's the point of searching and finding, then finding and losing? How can turning into a ghost feel so empty and searing at the same time? What is the point of being born anew if I'm destined to turn clear again? What is the point of seeking? Waiting, wishing, hoping, thinking? Why would I put myself through that? I'm so tired.'' The woman places a gentle palm on his cheek. It was a palm of someone who had endured how time was the hardest thing there was. Time, that was all forgotten the moment she saw him.

''It's too much, isn't it? But my sweet Aaron, this is only how it feels until it doesn't feel that way any longer.'' She stops. Then she looks all around her and he follows where her eyes are aiming. She looked at the sunset. She looked at the leaves falling from the sky. She looked at the shore and she looked at the woods. She looked at him straight in the eyes.

''But look. Look how beautiful everything is.'' He couldn't object.

''And you know what the most beautiful part is? That it won't last forever. The sun will one hour set and when all the leaves have descended, they will be turn into litter in the withered grass. This precious moment I've been given with you will have an end. The woods, the woods down there will be dark. The woods may be dark, but the shore will be cold. By the sea you will be able to see what's coming in and in the woods there is no telling what lies beyond the next row of trees. When the time comes you will know what to do.'' He knew. He knew where he had to go. Tears streamed down his face, saddened over the fact that she wouldn't be able to go with him. He loved her so much.

''Finding is being alive and not hurting is just drifting.'' Right before her lips could reach his forehead one last time the moment had passed and when he opened his eyes again another future would be the present. When the prophecy turned into now with the decision, he was faced. The wind carried him towards the woods.