Dream

The last thing I read before I went to sleep last night was about the interpretation of dreams. I discovered that dreaming about falling teeth does not mean something bad will happen as I was made to believe. It actually means maturity. When you dream that you have your own baby, an inner desire of yours is starting to surface or that you have a hidden goal that you want to start working on.  

But I did not dream of dinosaurs, shoes, butterflies, or river. Rather, I dreamt about you.

Most of the time, my dreams become hazy when I wake up. But my dream about you is different. It’s been three hours since I woke up but I can still feel it—the repressed frustration, the calculated expectation, the ignored longing. 

...

We were with other people, probably people we know but I could not exactly name them. Then, all of us were walking on the open street. We were all going somewhere. You were silently slacking behind while the others were merrily walking ahead already. I was in between. I don’t know if I should hurry to cope up with the rest or wait for you so that we can walk together instead.

I hurried toward the rest. 

I wanted to pull you but that would be awkward. I guess, whether in reality or in dreams, I am more concerned on what other people would think. Sticking with you might mean I'm into you. I don’t want them to think that way.

Then, we arrived at the place. Your mother was there. I did not really recognize her face but they referred to her as your mother so instinctively, I just felt she was. 

We waited for you to arrive. You didn’t. Everybody else went home already but still you didn’t come. I bid your mother goodbye as well.

On my way home, I thought, “Yeah. Why would I be surprised? He always does this. He never shows up.” 

From the beginning, I already set my expectation low: do not anticipate that he will come. I was almost on the point of missing you but I did not entertain the feeling. There’ll be no remedy because you’ll never be around.