My Dream | Teen Ink

My Dream

August 8, 2013
By Brenna McCown BRONZE, Garland, Texas
Brenna McCown BRONZE, Garland, Texas
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I had a dream last night, a fantast among the usual ramblings of the subconscious, a diamond among the rough, typical innerworkings of nightmares. To say it was unprecedented is an understatement to its gravity, I am still held in awe at the clarity it has brought me and the depth to which it initially decieved me. As these impressions are generally forgotten in the few hours succeeding them, I am writing this down as a testament to how much I wish it would stay.
Introductions aside, it started with me being cognizant of things I am not in my waking life, a standard occurence for anyone who has had the privilege of dreaming. I knew it was a few years in my future, and while these reveries are not too welcoming of details, I suspect I was about 19 or 20. The people surrounding me, of which I knew hardly anything and could not recognize whilst conscious, my dream self knew to be my closest and most trusted friends.
Naturally, I talked to them for several hours, and one person in particular stood out to me as the complete and utter embodiment of perfection, and I do mean this in the literal sense. He was exceedingly intelligent, kind and generous to the point of sainthood, witty as any skilled performer, and, of course, physically attractive; but none of these in the way most humans possess these traits. As I just mentioned, he was undeviatingly flawless, with no room for any of the discrepancies or inconsistencies normality provides, and it would be an obvious divergence on my part to not be completely enamored by his very presence.
And yet, I wasn't, and while I'd agree the dream would have been some ode to nonconformity had it ended right there, the transgressions taking place after that point were anything but original.
I decided to go to bed, so I declared all my goodbyes to these new and yet somehow old friends and drifted instantly into sleep, ignoring the fact that these events were already taking place under the guise of repose. When I woke in the dream, I found a startling but not altogether displeasing discovery to the conventional mind - the man I had described earlier was laying next to me, a contented look upon his face.
While again the customary reaction would be one of gratification, I instead felt such an intense pang of insatiable loneliness and longing it would take hours to properly describe. And I could not understand my abnormality either - I was, in fact, right next to the physical interpetation of all the traits to which I am attracted and the eager seed of satisfaction never once took root in my mind.
And then I inevitably realized the person to which the longing could be accredited, and it was undeniably, incontestably, most positively you.
So when I actually woke, and felt yet another disappointing ache, it wasn't because this ideologically sublime, seemingly impeccable person had been beside me in dream and left me in wake, it was because he wasn't present in either, and that, my dear, is an affliction to which only you could remedy.



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