Alive

Inspired by a dream 

This was inspired by a dream I had in which I was a middle-aged love lorn man. I felt none of the emotions that are penned down here so that is mere speculation. Still, I like to think they're close to accurate.

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Concentric circles spread over the silver mirrored surface of the water in fragmented segments as the rod fell into the lake. The entire surface rippled like a carpet being thrown out on a newly polished floor.

But he couldn’t find it in himself to care about the brand new rod he had just dropped. Instead, he managed to drag himself to his feet, ignoring the stiff aching in his knees as he took a clumsy step forward, almost stumbling in the process.

Towards her, if she really stood there. He didn’t think he could trust his eyes anymore, their precision was diminished and unreliable now. He felt aged by decades since he had last seen her.

He swallowed the hard lump that had gathered in his throat, urging himself to take another breath, deeper this time.

Her dainty figure was loosely wrapped in a summer dress; it looked familiar, he thought, furrowing his brows in concentration for a moment.

He could tell just from the delicately tied satin strap it was light red, studded with flowers of white and purple, a modest neckline, just past knee-length.

He smiled; modest was the word for her. Among others, he thought silently.

He could see just peeks of her dusty green eyes behind the sienna hair. What he could see was just as beautiful as before, if not more. This was if her absence had not marred and biased his vision beyond repair.

But she hadn’t been quite so thin before, if he remembered correctly. And he did, because her curves were significantly altered and he could see her collarbone with ease which was definitely not visible before.

He took another step towards her unknowingly, all the while wondering what exactly his mind would fear the most if he closed the distance between them. If there was but a scant distance between their faces and he could tuck her hair behind her ears. Would the depths of her eyes beckon for more than just the rough touch of his hand or would her hesitation be vehement and tug at her till she pulled herself away? But perhaps he could but whisper a few loving words in her ear as he fixed her hair, would she allow such little, he wondered dubiously.

He knew not what to expect from her anymore. He feared he may not even know her anymore. That she would disappear at the mere close proximity he wished to experience once more, like a nymph. A lovely yet shy myth.

He couldn’t fully see her face while her hair was blown erratically in every direction and strands moving with livid motion. Even the elements would not grant him permission to see her.

How cruel was fate, this world and all, that even in his wildest dreams he could not be satisfied with just a look?

And just as the moonlight shone on her wholly it revealed her face ashen pale and eyes widowed of animation. It revealed but another woman come to call him away.

Could he but explain the despondency his heart was cast into perhaps all would know the shadow his heart was forced to live under, just how cold it was in that permanent shade.

Instead, he followed silently while his heart yearned for she who his heart had just for that diminutive moment come alive for.