Vague
"Where are you? & I'm so sorry. I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight."
I remember there were goosebumps, and I was suddenly so cold and confused, and none of it made sense anymore. & When I looked at him, I couldn’t understand how the world worked or how any of us existed within it. It was like the thought of him and what he stood for crawled up into my soul, into the pit of my stomach, and grew there. The sight of him brought tears to my eyes and made me feel unworthy. Made everything feel unworthy. And he sat down like he was completely unaware of the revelations he was causing me to have, and he licked his lips and stared ahead, like nothing else really mattered except his own thoughts inside his head.
But he was already in mine, the image of him trapped there, forcing out all logic and reason, and priorities was no longer a word that held any meaning. I didn’t understand it, I didn’t try to. I was lost to the thought of him and the sight of him, and everything he was and wasn’t. He was the thing from my dreams, the one that I could never picture correctly, or attempt to draw with any hopes of making it anywhere near realistic. He was the angel that never truly existed outside of my head, but now he was here, existing in real time with all his glory and he was completely oblivious to everything that I couldn’t stop seeing.
God, he was beautiful. I could tell by looking at him that his soul matched the rest of him. Dark and agonizingly beautiful. I could see him and I could see that he saw the world differently. He was in my head now, and I couldn’t even remember myself. He’d worked his way inside without even knowing it and pushed out all recognition of everything else. My name was lost to me, what did I look like? How I could I possibly focus on these things when he was truly, gloriously here.
God, he was so beautiful. I could see inside him better than I could see myself. He just didn’t know it yet, didn’t get the same chill along his spine that travelled outward, towards the follicles of his hair and tips of his toes. It was a cold that travelled through my veins, chilling my blood and waking me up. I don’t think I’d ever been more awake. And all it took was a glimpse of him. A glimpse of myself in someone else.
He had been in my dreams for as long as I could remember. He was all I dreamed about, but never saw. He was a vague representation of everything beautiful in the world, but my soul recognized his now. I recognized him so much that it hurt. And when he got up to walk away, it hurt so much I didn’t think that I’d ever be able to breathe without him around. I didn’t even think that breathing was necessary anymore. All that was necessary was him, and as I watched him go, I watched part of myself leave with him, holding onto the idea that maybe he’d recognize me too if only he turned around.
But he was already in mine, the image of him trapped there, forcing out all logic and reason, and priorities was no longer a word that held any meaning. I didn’t understand it, I didn’t try to. I was lost to the thought of him and the sight of him, and everything he was and wasn’t. He was the thing from my dreams, the one that I could never picture correctly, or attempt to draw with any hopes of making it anywhere near realistic. He was the angel that never truly existed outside of my head, but now he was here, existing in real time with all his glory and he was completely oblivious to everything that I couldn’t stop seeing.
God, he was beautiful. I could tell by looking at him that his soul matched the rest of him. Dark and agonizingly beautiful. I could see him and I could see that he saw the world differently. He was in my head now, and I couldn’t even remember myself. He’d worked his way inside without even knowing it and pushed out all recognition of everything else. My name was lost to me, what did I look like? How I could I possibly focus on these things when he was truly, gloriously here.
God, he was so beautiful. I could see inside him better than I could see myself. He just didn’t know it yet, didn’t get the same chill along his spine that travelled outward, towards the follicles of his hair and tips of his toes. It was a cold that travelled through my veins, chilling my blood and waking me up. I don’t think I’d ever been more awake. And all it took was a glimpse of him. A glimpse of myself in someone else.
He had been in my dreams for as long as I could remember. He was all I dreamed about, but never saw. He was a vague representation of everything beautiful in the world, but my soul recognized his now. I recognized him so much that it hurt. And when he got up to walk away, it hurt so much I didn’t think that I’d ever be able to breathe without him around. I didn’t even think that breathing was necessary anymore. All that was necessary was him, and as I watched him go, I watched part of myself leave with him, holding onto the idea that maybe he’d recognize me too if only he turned around.