mother
had a plan for me, I just wish I could see it.
As
the dream starts taking shape in my mind, it feels too vivid. Almost as though
I’m not asleep at all. I stand alone in an unfamiliar place that I cannot make
out. I think I stand in a room but it’s too distorted and blurred maybe by my
own vision. I pick one area to focus on but nothing, no matter how hard I try,
will appear clear. I feel like clouds have formed in my eyes.
As
I stand there, I’m overcome with a strange sensation. As if someone’s energy
pulsates against my back. At first I feel the urge to be frightened, though I
do not feel threatened. I turn slowly seeing in the distance what looks to be a
tall man walking towards me. There is something about him I cannot place but I
feel safe knowing he is here.
As
he approaches, I stay very still. Once he reaches me, we stand facing one
another. I realize that my eyes are not the reason for the fogginess. It’s him.
Everything about and around him is a blurred, like I’m looking through a
plastic bag. I try so hard to make out the form of his face. Not one detail is
clear. Strangely, I find myself drawn to him. My heart flutters as he reaches
his hand out toward me. I try to take it but without warning, he starts to pull
away. I continue to reach for him as he threatens to leave. It’s no use. Within
seconds he fades away into nothing.
As
I wake in the morning, the dream is fresh on my mind. Had it not seemed so
strange I would be convinced it actually happened. The more I think of it the
less sense it makes.
I
head down stairs, turn the stereo on, select disc one track one, and dance
around the house to Paramore while conquering my list of morning chorus. All
the while, I cannot rid myself of this lingering feeling. I keep thinking I’m
forgetting something. I shake it off and sing as loud as the speakers do.
With
the house clean and no lost items found, I make a cup of hot tea and step out
front for some fresh air. I sit on the white wood painted porch swing and
lightly sway back and forth. As I sip my tea, I smile with a feeling of
lightness. Like my spirit is not afraid to show its own little smile. It’s
amazing what good music and dancing like a fool will do.
In
the yard next to me, Mrs. Johnson, a woman in her forties, waves cordially to
me as Muffy, her chocolate toy puddle, piddles by the mailbox. I return the
kind jester.
Across
the street, Mr. Woods, known for being a senile man with serious anger issues,
pushes a bucket with wheels around his lawn. I assume it’s fertilizer of some
sort. I assume because the lawn is literally his pride and joy. If you did not
know this little fact, well, there are at least four different signs in the
yard all saying the same thing, to stay the heck off it.
If
breeding poodles is Mrs. Johnson’s forte and Mr. Wood’s is grass, I wonder what
mine would be. Oddly, I cannot think of one thing I have ever excelled at,
unless being an intern counts. I’m in mid thought when unexpectedly Luke’s car
pulls into the driveway.
“Braving the outdoors today?” He says smiling as he walks up the sidewalk.
It
is the kind of smile certain guys can do so perfectly. I remember that same loaded
smile the first time I met him in eighth grade. It is as inviting to me now as
it was back then. In fact, that same smile attracted me to Luke a few years
back.
I
came to know Luke through Tommy, more of an off again than on again
ex-boyfriend to my good friend Tiffany. Our personalities meshed right away and
the rest is history. Even with my slight attraction to Luke, whatever
opportunity there was for us to explore a possible relationship had gone
unseen. Now Luke is one of my closest and most trusted friends.
“I’m
people watchin’.”
“How
exciting!” He jokes before sitting beside me.
“If
everyone has a forte, what do you think ours is?”
Luke
takes a minute to think. “I don’t think we have one. I mean it’s still early in
the
had a plan for me, I just wish I could see it.
As
the dream starts taking shape in my mind, it feels too vivid. Almost as though
I’m not asleep at all. I stand alone in an unfamiliar place that I cannot make
out. I think I stand in a room but it’s too distorted and blurred maybe by my
own vision. I pick one area to focus on but nothing, no matter how hard I try,
will appear clear. I feel like clouds have formed in my eyes.
As
I stand there, I’m overcome with a strange sensation. As if someone’s energy
pulsates against my back. At first I feel the urge to be frightened, though I
do not feel threatened. I turn slowly seeing in the distance what looks to be a
tall man walking towards me. There is something about him I cannot place but I
feel safe knowing he is here.
As
he approaches, I stay very still. Once he reaches me, we stand facing one
another. I realize that my eyes are not the reason for the fogginess. It’s him.
Everything about and around him is a blurred, like I’m looking through a
plastic bag. I try so hard to make out the form of his face. Not one detail is
clear. Strangely, I find myself drawn to him. My heart flutters as he reaches
his hand out toward me. I try to take it but without warning, he starts to pull
away. I continue to reach for him as he threatens to leave. It’s no use. Within
seconds he fades away into nothing.
As
I wake in the morning, the dream is fresh on my mind. Had it not seemed so
strange I would be convinced it actually happened. The more I think of it the
less sense it makes.
I
head down stairs, turn the stereo on, select disc one track one, and dance
around the house to Paramore while conquering my list of morning chorus. All
the while, I cannot rid myself of this lingering feeling. I keep thinking I’m
forgetting something. I shake it off and sing as loud as the speakers do.
With
the house clean and no lost items found, I make a cup of hot tea and step out
front for some fresh air. I sit on the white wood painted porch swing and
lightly sway back and forth. As I sip my tea, I smile with a feeling of
lightness. Like my spirit is not afraid to show its own little smile. It’s
amazing what good music and dancing like a fool will do.
In
the yard next to me, Mrs. Johnson, a woman in her forties, waves cordially to
me as Muffy, her chocolate toy puddle, piddles by the mailbox. I return the
kind jester.
Across
the street, Mr. Woods, known for being a senile man with serious anger issues,
pushes a bucket with wheels around his lawn. I assume it’s fertilizer of some
sort. I assume because the lawn is literally his pride and joy. If you did not
know this little fact, well, there are at least four different signs in the
yard all saying the same thing, to stay the heck off it.
If
breeding poodles is Mrs. Johnson’s forte and Mr. Wood’s is grass, I wonder what
mine would be. Oddly, I cannot think of one thing I have ever excelled at,
unless being an intern counts. I’m in mid thought when unexpectedly Luke’s car
pulls into the driveway.
“Braving the outdoors today?” He says smiling as he walks up the sidewalk.
It
is the kind of smile certain guys can do so perfectly. I remember that same loaded
smile the first time I met him in eighth grade. It is as inviting to me now as
it was back then. In fact, that same smile attracted me to Luke a few years
back.
I
came to know Luke through Tommy, more of an off again than on again
ex-boyfriend to my good friend Tiffany. Our personalities meshed right away and
the rest is history. Even with my slight attraction to Luke, whatever
opportunity there was for us to explore a possible relationship had gone
unseen. Now Luke is one of my closest and most trusted friends.
“I’m
people watchin’.”
“How
exciting!” He jokes before sitting beside me.
“If
everyone has a forte, what do you think ours is?”
Luke
takes a minute to think. “I don’t think we have one. I mean it’s still early in
the