Thursday, July 3, 2008

Blurry Lines

"He went that way..." she says and points to her left. "He took off his ring and threw it on the ground."

I picture him, his large brows colliding with one another and tears rimming his eyes. He's hurt...I shoot a mental bullet at the bitch that did it to him.

He'll be at the library. That's where he always is, especially when he's upset.

I have been to the library before, have searched its vast clutter for him in the past. I've never been successful.

But there he is, just beyond the shelf filled with molding red-bound tomes, sitting with his elbows to his knees face to his hands, distraught.

I approach open-armed, feeling what I can only guess is the love and warmth a mother feels when she is consoling a hurt child. I want to embrace him and soak up his pain. Take it by the tail and swing it, like Atlas would, into the universe. Far far away.

He collapses under my hug, letting his face fall to my chest. For the first time, in any of my dreams, he gives himself up and becomes vulnerable. He kisses me.

I am so fucking in love with him. It's going to kill me. My heart is going to pound right out of my chest and I'll never catch my breath.

Suddenly asleep and awake intersect and I remember A.J. and I have to choose one or the other. I want to be good to A.J. more than anything.

And then I wake up. A.J. is asleep beside me. I do not have to choose...

I sit up and kick my feet over the edge of the bed and try to shake the dream from my head. But it stays with me and I feel guilty, all day...

1 comment:

*Becky* said...

Okay, next installment?