2006-01-02
For You to Notice
This afternoon was only a reminder that the memories will fade with the setting sun. Boats danced in the distance, with masts reaching up into the sun and I shielded my eyes to look, and from my view, the world was gold and perfect and suddenly I wanted to write in my book. And if I could capture all moments and wrap them into a tiny glass ball, they�d all be pictures that look like this
Tales of the brokenhearted echo in the eternal wall of the beautiful, desperate and forgotten artists. The spotlight isn�t large enough for all of us, and we hide in the shadows, providing the definitive strokes to those who express our very ideas, only with different words.
I�m so lost in my own world. Memories surprise me and spring up with summer butterflies, providing bitter-sweet realizations of both glorious triumphs and mistakes.
It was two months ago, on a midnight that I lay awake staring up at the white ceiling, and my roommate lay on the bed in front of mine, reading me one of her poems. She�s got a poem for each one of my doubts.
I�ve been thinking of Dan lately�I will admit to that. And perhaps all these letters that I keep writing in my notebook are secretly for him. That�s odd�and marginally creepy�almost. But it�s a crush�I�ve got a crush. I�ve never stuttered in my life, save for when I spoke to him.
I dreamt about him the other night. I was gardening on a hazy midsummer afternoon�lilacs in my garden, and I had on a straw hat. I suddenly look up to the glimmering sunlight, and there he was, staring at me. His dirt-blond hair hung over his face, and I clearly saw his blue piercing�and suddenly, he waved and smiled.
Surprised, I walked toward him, taking off my hat:
Dan? I said.
I came by to give you this� He held up a red object that I couldn�t quite make out in my dream.
And I invited him into my house and we drank tea, and I saw his dark-blue eyes glance warmly at mine. We talked and giggled, casually talking about my crush on him. And he grabbed my hand and held it�and in that dream, I felt its warmth, and I didn�t want to let go.
I woke up slightly confused and disappointed that it was only a dream. But most things are, I suppose�sadly. I etched the golden sketch of possibility in my heart.