Just a Dream

I sat up with an abrupt jolt when I fully grasped the idea that it was only a dream.

It didn’t take me too long to realize that what had happened to me was only a figment of my wild and far-fetched imagination, a mere reflection of my subconscious. How incredibly foolish and naïve I was, thinking that occurrence was truly a reality. In what bizarre alternate world could that have ever happened to me who’s most feasible destiny is to end up alone?

But it seemed so, so real.

Everything… from the boy’s gold flecked emerald eyes to his ruffled mahogany brown hair felt so utterly solid and authentic and true that I was fully convinced that he was really, actually there, lying next to me with his bare, chiseled chest rising and falling slowly, breathing in a perfect rhythm.



In the glorious morning light that shone faintly from the window above my bed, he was so breathtakingly beautiful that I could not tear my eyes away, not even for a second.

I was afraid to touch him. Because once I did, I knew he would disappear or somehow fade away, far away from me to admire ever again. That’s what usually happens, right? Good, wonderful, beautiful things never stay for you. The things that make you the happiest you’ll ever be, the things that will make you see the world in bright, vibrant colors, the things that put you in an ultimate state of pure bliss. They’re gone the moment you grasp your desperate fingers around them, to keep them, to save them for yourself, to keep them in your pocket for a rainy day.

Then you break down and fall to your knees when it finally dawns on you that you’re holding nothing; just empty, hollow air. All your happiness just drains right out of you so quickly like water seeping through a plastic cup with tiny holes underneath. You realize you’re alone again.

I know this feeling very well because it has stayed with me so often that it has become one of my oldest friends. Loss; I think that’s what you call it.

So I lay completely still on my back, with my head tilted to his direction, trying not to move and fighting the urge to reach out to him. If my hands could not explore the wonder beside me I resigned myself to discover more of him through my eyes, which was what I have been doing in the first place.

He could have been mistaken as a marble statue of an angel without wings or possibly a Greek god; with his porcelain-like skin it almost blended color with the bed sheets that were tangled wantonly around him, and his features so specific… so precise, so fine… that even Michelangelo’s heart would break and shatter.

In one swift movement I turned myself away from him. A sudden thought rang through my head: I was invading his privacy. No one would want a stranger staring at you while you sleep, at a time when you are at your most vulnerable. Greek god or angel or human being, he had his boundaries.

Shame on you, I told myself.

I closed my eyes shut and hugged my knees tight to my chest so that it would be difficult for me to turn myself toward him again. I made sure I was farthest from him as possible that I almost fell off my little bed.

And then he spoke.

“Hello, beautiful,” he whispered in an exotic voice unlike any other. Was he talking to me or was there some other girl in the room with us?

I remained as still as ever.

“You’re going to have to face me sooner or later, my love,” I heard him say. This time I was positive that he was talking to me but I could not bring myself to face him. My love? He called me his love? At once my pulse began to race and my heart began to thump wildly in my chest, like an untamed animal that has been stuck in a cage for so long.

“What did you just call me?” I whispered my back still on the mysterious and ethereal boy.

“I called you my love. You do love me too, yes?” he said the way an innocent little boy would sound.

I turned to him, and I soon as I did, I gasped.

His eyes were the color of luminescent purple; the color of the vast sky just before the majestic sun slowly goes to sleep. It contrasted profoundly with his pale skin.

“I-I…,” I stuttered, unable to find words.

“Come closer,” he beckoned, eyes fixed on me.

I hesitated. Would he disappear before my eyes?

“I won’t go anywhere, I promise,” he murmured, as if he read my mind.

Obediently, as if in trance, I wriggled my small body towards him, filling in the gap that took place between us before. Just another inch and we would be touching, I thought. My heart would be out of my chest any minute now.

“Come,” he said, nodding encouragingly, the purple in his eyes brighter than ever, luring me to him.

I focused my eyes on the concave curve that was his bare neck. I could not bring myself to look into his eyes, for some unknown reason. Maybe I was afraid I was going to drown in them.

And then we collided. One moment, I felt his skin against mine. It was soft and warm, like the skin of a newborn child. And the next, it seemed to have melted into liquid gold… and I saw myself floating in a stagnant pool of the brilliant substance. My bedroom was gone. I was surrounded by the blinding color of white.

A tingling sensation tickled through me and grazed my entire body. It did not hurt. It felt good, in fact. The next thing I knew, I was enveloped in it. My body, utterly plain and unadorned before, was now covered in pure gold. I could feel my stomach flip in glee.

Then I saw him, the boy, except this time he was wearing velvet robes that trailed long behind him, the same color with his eyes. He was wearing a very pleased grin… as if something he wanted… something he craved for such a long time is finally in his hands. It scared me.

I looked around and the pool was gone. It was just me, the boy, and complete nothingness.

He walked towards me, taking his time, with the unmistakable grace and elegance of a king. Once we were face to face, he said, “I have come for you. You are now mine, forever. There is nothing that can keep you away from me. Nothing.”

The boy leaned in and kissed me.