HelluvaGirl

Dreams can suddenly become so vivid after a full stop.

It was a long and noisy travel in search of something vague, until finally me, mother and sister found ourselves in a luxurious Malibu resort.

Somewhere in the background, My First Love was meeting people. I was going to see him again later. The handsome Jew. He finally recognised me all grown up, contrary to real life when we pass by each other oftentimes around the office or at the night bars, and we politely shift our lips into a shade of a smile without saying a word. He doesn’t connect the dots. In the dream, however, he knew.

We were relaxing in a magnificent water resort, sailing on a boat and breathing in warm and fresh air, so light and summery.

In front of us was a waterfall-like amusement area with boats descending from above, people sitting on them. The boats looked like umbrellas upside down, and they were dreamily floating in the air with water falling behind them.

I saw him on one of those umbrellas. His gorgeous black curls were so true to life, and all his perfectly masculine features having blurred out in my memory now looked photographically realistic. His sight was resting in the distance, face neither sad, nor happy. Thoughtful perhaps?

She was next to him, leaning to the opposite side, similarly indifferent. They were two people, comfortably accustomed to each other’s presence rather than excited by the nearness a small umbrella-boat stipulated.

I was looking at them and the gap in between, knowing he would pretend to not know me if I cared to wave or come up later in the restaurant to say hello. I knew he would be perfectly cautious as ever and I wasn’t looking for more proof.

How did I feel? Like I didn’t belong in that gap. Like the gap wasn’t emptiness or distance really: it was their own sort if intimacy.

And I was just another onlooker.