Lost Love

I thought I was at a loss for words before, but my mind seemed more vacant now. Did I hear her correctly? I tried to open my mouth to speak but it was a dry dessert, making it impossible to get the sounds out. What do I say to that? I stared down at the ground, because I didn’t have the answer to that.

However many minutes passed of, more then, awkward silence. Liz spoke. “I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re obviously at a loss for words for my bizarre confession. Now, I won’t ever get to really know you.” She bit down on her lip and fidgeted with her hands nervously. Her last sentence she said with a low whisper, that I almost didn’t hear it.

I looked at her stunned. “You want to know me?” I asked confusion clearly in my voice.

Continuing her fidgeting she said, “Well, yes. I’ve been having dreams about you nearly every night for three years now. It started the first night that I stayed at the Ashland Bed and Breakfast.”

Ashland was our home. I inherited it after my father’s death that was soon after our wedding. Elizabeth was only just starting to remodel when the Yellow Fever spread. I sold it about eight years after her death when I realized I wasn’t aging. That was a long year; I didn’t know what to do. I had no idea as to why I wasn’t aging and I was sure I couldn’t ask anyone. It was hard to let go of it, after all, it was our home. As for her resting place, I had her moved to a proper cemetery so that I could visit her in the future.

I couldn’t understand what Ashland had to do with her. Was she somehow linked to it? But how? Maybe it sparked the memories of her past life, Elizabeth’s life. But I’m not sure I believe in that sort of thing. I’d hope Elizabeth was in heaven, where she belonged among the angles.

Suddenly I had a thought, “What are your dreams about?”

She jumped a little out of her seat when I spoke. My thought process must have taken me longer then I thought. She seemed a little hesitant but begins to tell me, “Oh, um…well, for the six months or so, I seem to be living at Ashland Plantation. I don’t know what year it was supposed to be but we were dressed in period clothing. At first, I thought I was letting my imagination run too wild with being on the beautiful plantation. But our conversations were spoken so proper and the subjects of those conversations I was sure I couldn’t just make up. I didn’t have enough knowledge of those days to come up with that on my own, and then you, where would I get you from? After the first few nights of seeing you in my dreams, I searched the whole house looking for a picture of you. I thought maybe that’s how you got in my dreams. But there wasn’t a single picture of you there. At the time, I just accepted you were a figment of my imagination…until today, that is.”

“What where your dreams like after?”

She gave a little laugh, but I could see it wasn’t because anything was funny. “As the dreams went on, they seemed to go through time. I noticed uniforms; it felt like both World Wars. Then into the Vietnam War. I saw how fashions change and electronics grew. And all the time, I’m always with you, but we never aged.

For the last few months the dreams have just been in our recent time. Only, I feel anxious about something, but I never know what. It was very frustrating. The dreams always felt real. Whatever emotion that was there, it carried over when I woke up and sometimes for the rest of the day.” After a short moment she added, “This must be all very strange to you. I must sound like a complete…weirdo.”

Maybe it would be strange, if I were not 181 years old, but I am. And she has been seeing me live my life though her dreams. It didn’t make sense but the pieces where starting to come together.