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Did the real me corrupt the fantasy? Did I spoil the view?
The roof he found himself on was empty, save for bits of soot and dust decorating its stone.
Leftovers from smoke, but long finished.
The place felt familiar, as if he should know this place.
Buildup is almost always better than getting what you want.
That’s how he felt lately. He didn’t remember his previous dreams. He didn’t remember his life before dreaming.
But he always felt something was missing.
Like something was supposed to be there with him. Something he held dear.
Did I disappoint you?
He found himself in a bathroom. Unused and clean. He got a faint sense of deja vu as he looked in the mirror. Studying his form.
It felt familiar, but it wasn’t. Like the sight of his pale, glowing skin was to comfort him or to bring him ease.
It did, in a way. But only because it reminded him faintly of someone.
Say it.
He opened the door to find a hallway. Brightly lit with stars and spheres decorating its walls and ceiling.
He supposed it was familiar. He’d think maybe from when he was awake, but that didn’t seem like it.
Something felt off, like the hallway wasn’t originally this bright.
Moon brushed a hand on the wall, feeling no texture.
That made sense, at the very least.
If it’s over, say it.
He had walked down the hallway, reaching the dance floor. The room may have been empty of others, but it was filled with orange couches and empty pizza boxes.
He rolled his eyes at the trash, but he supposed it was better than half-empty ones.
The walls were a dark grey, the lights of the dance floor vividly illuminating the room.
So I can move forward.
He was on a boat.
He felt stupid even just thinking of the idea. He can’t swim, so why would he want to be out at sea?
He couldn’t bring himself to leave the boat, though, so he stayed.
Please don’t leave me in the dark. Praying for a wayward spark.
The mats under him were cool.
The time has gone, and yet he wasn’t any closer to figuring out who they were.
He knew it was someone who was missing from his dreams. He just didn’t know who. He tried to think them into existence, but that was hard to do when you couldn’t remember your time awake.
He tried to think of someone, anyone.
The closest he got was to imagining someone similar to himself.
It felt familiar, but something was missing. Without them physically there, any attempts he would make would mean nothing.
It wasn’t the same.
I’m haunted by your tenderness. You gave me a soft place to land.
There were two places he found himself in often. A daycare and a coffee shop. The coffee shop felt like the closest semblance to home he had without knowing what his home was.
Lying on the floor of the daycare, however, seemed to make it easier for him to remember who he was missing.
He still couldn’t figure out what they looked like, but he could remember them.
He could remember their touches, their words, their laughs.
You held up a mirror, and showed me what I've been hiding from for years.
He could remember them sometimes. How they may push, but if they went too far, they’d make sure not to repeat it.
He wasn’t used to that tenderness.
Was that just sleight of hand?
He tapped his nails against his cup, the tapping making a hollow sound as he thought.
Did he do something to make them leave? Was whatever arrangement they had over?
Say it
Did he mess up, do something that even they couldn’t forgive?
If it’s over, say it, so I can move forward.
He wished he could see them one last time. Even if they’d just say “Goodbye.”
He wished he could hold them one more time. Even if he wouldn't see them again, he just wanted one more second with them.
Please don’t leave me in the dark. Praying for a wayward spark.
He wished he could remember what they looked like. Just to see them, even if it wasn’t a real version.
They were dear to him, he knew that. Was he dear to them, too? Why else would they leave?
Say it, if it’s done. Speak the words, and I will move on. You know I'm loyal to a fault. I will sit hеre waiting for the axe to fall.
If you could, would you erase me? Eradicate me from your mind, ooh.
And if we were to meet as strangers again.
It was possible he could’ve met them in the real world. That he knew them, he just couldn’t remember.
Would you refuse to meet my eyes?
Maybe that was why they weren’t here anymore. They knew that he couldn’t remember them, so they decided to leave him to his own devices.
Would you let me pass you by?
He must’ve failed them in that aspect.
He planted his head in the grass. Carding his fingers through the blades like one would for hair, as he thought.
“I-” he said, looking up into the sky. They couldn’t hear him, of course, but he’d do it anyway.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “for anything I did. I’m sorry if I did anything to push you away.”