I had a dream that you came to visit. You looked very much the same although your hair may have been a bit shorter. I’m not sure. You came during one of my classes and I was shocked when you walked in the door with that apathetic look of reclusion on your face. My nerves cringed for a moment and then imploded with inner hesitation. I wanted to run over and hug you. But I didn’t. Rather, I sat still at my drawing board and continued sketching the model. Started sketching very poorly because I could not concentrate at all and I pretend to work because I don’t want anyone, especially you, to see me drawing anything poorly. I just keep looking at you while trying my hardest not to. I keep trying to catch your glance but you wont give it to me. I bite my lip. Look at me. Ughhh.
Tell Me That it’s Nothing
I know the girl who came with you, I’ve met her a few times although her presence was strange. She was running around the room and seemed overly cheerful. That’s just in her nature; it’s sewn into her ethereal sunflower top. It’s on the edge of mocking me. I almost planned on telling her to go away because she just didn’t belong here. But I could never and after my painful impatience was on the hinge of snapping violently, I discreetly remove myself from the classwork and walk over to act all cute and say I’ve missed you.
“Hey.”
“Well, look at you.” Those eyes scan over me, and you smile. I’ve caged my grins for the moment and just look affectionately.
“What are you up to?” You wont answer me so I read your expression instead. My smiles collapse into concern. You say you’re going to kill yourself on Sunday.
You didn’t come to visit, did you? You only came to send your goodbyes.
I move towards him. We hug and let go but if I could freeze that moment of embrace I would, for a minute or two. I know that the decision is yours but in the back of my head I am screaming at you, hitting you in the arm, crying that you cannot possibly do this.
And even in my awake, I can still feel your sweatshirt on my fingertips.