by
Robert Alan Silverstein
I
was having that dream again.
My
favorite utopian dream.
You
know, the one where you open your eyes and wake up into your
True Life, with your soulmate gazing down at you, and you
feel like you're truly alive ... for the very first time.
Yeah, that's the one.
Except this time it's not a dream.
"Time
to get up now," my true love says to me.
"Huh?"
is about all I can muster, because even though I feel certain
with every fiber of my being that I am awake, I am overwhelmed
with the sensation that I'm too awake -- I have not ever felt
this way before. So present. So... Alive.
Not to mention that I have no idea who this woman leaning
over me could possibly be.
The one whose hair is gently brushing my face and whose sweet
breath is tickling my nose.
I'm pretty sure I've never seen her before, and yet, on the
other hand, I also feel like I've known her forever.
"Come
on Sleepyhead. We've got lots of work to do," she says with
a giggle and a playful eyeroll.
Still, this does not compute.
Then she leans forward even closer, and kisses me.
Suddenly I'm waking up to an even higher level of feeling
Alive.
Because even though this is that happily-forever-after kind
of kiss that only exists in fairy tales, it is also so familiar,
and feels so much like home, that I know I've kissed those
lips a thousand times before, and will again, forever and
ever. I know I'm right where I belong. And I never want this
moment to end.
That's when I realize the kiss is over and she's tugging on
my arm.
Oh, but that forever warm feeling still remains, and I really
do not want to get up.
Except she's pretty strong and practically drags me off the
bed.
She leads me by the hand across the room and I happily follow,
a disoriented, silly but totally blissful smile still plastered
on my face.
"Brush
your teeth, your breath is awful," she says playfully, depositing
me at the bathroom door. "I'll make us some breakfast."
And then she gracefully saunters down the hall toward the
kitchen, while I just stand there with my mouth hanging open,
watching her, too overwhelmed to move. She turns the corner
and I suddenly panic, worrying that "out of sight out of mind"
might also might mean out of existence.
My heart starts pounding, but then I hear her happily humming
in the kitchen, and the thunder in my ears starts to fade.
Honestly I would run to the kitchen to make absolutely sure
she really is still there, but I suddenly realize I really
have to pee and, intentionally filling my ears with the music
of her humming, I dash into the bathroom.
Breakfast is amazing. I barely register what it is I'm eating
as I stare at her sitting across from me. But whatever it
is, it's the most delicious meal I've ever had.
She looks up and sees me staring, my fork dangling stupidly
in front of my mouth. "Finish up," she says with a giggle.
"We've got a lot to do today!"
"We
do?" I squeak, noticing just in time that I've almost poked
myself with the fork's prongs.
"We
do!" she declares with a roll of her eyes. "Come on. This
is it. The moment you've been waiting for. The day we begin
to save the universe, together."
"Say,
what now?" I gasp.
"We're
going to get you back to trying to create that utopian tale
we were meant to tell -- the one we'll write together ...
the one that will inspire a new beginning of hope."
"Uh..."
How did she know that this is my heart's deepest desire? The
path I no longer have the strength to try to pursue, because
I don't want to go it alone, anymore. "But..."
"You
just have to start," she says, playfully shaking her head,
and she hands me my laptop.
I stare into her eyes and space out again.
The sound of the printer jars me from my reverie. She reaches
down and picks up the printout.
"Um,
okay, well, how do we begin..." I stammer.
"We
already have, silly," she laughs as she hands me the pages.
A feeling of dread starts to well up inside as I begin to
read.
"Oh,
boy. I hope this isn't a dream after all," I sigh as I reach
the end.
I put the pages down.
Yeah, the ones that begin with "I was having that dream again"
and end with "Oh, boy. I hope this isn't a dream after all".
"Oh
boy, this IS just a dream after all!" I moan.
"Well...It
is and it isn't," she says.
"It
either is or it isn't," I counter.
"Touche,"
she sighs. "Look, it is true that I'm not physically with
you out there in your 'real life'..."
I knew it! My heart is breaking.
"But
I promise you we ARE together here, InBetween. And if you
keep writing down these utopian dreams, I will find you. I
know that we can be together out there in the real world,
too."
I want to believe her, I really do.
"You've
always believed that you had a higher mission and purpose,"
she says when I continue to sulk in silence.
"You've
wanted to create the perfect story. The one that would paint
a picture of utopia so beautifully and clearly that people
would wake up and see that a utopian future is not just as
an unrealistic naive dream, but a reality that could be, if
we worked together to manifest it."
"Exactly,"
I smile, knowing she understands me completely.
"But
you've been so obsessed for so long with longing to find your
soulmate -- another utopian dreamer who would want to explore
utopian dreams with you and work with you to share them, that
you barely remember how to dream anymore. You're all alone,
and now you're afraid you're running out of time..."
Tears begin to cloud my eyes. "Yes," I admit.
"I'm
searching for you, too," she whispers as she wipes away a
tear drifting down my cheek. "And we will find each other,
I promise."
I can almost feel hope rising in me. Almost.
"Although,
because we'll both be out there in the mundane, not fully
our true selves, it will be hard to recognize one another..."
A little less hopeful now.
"But
when I read about your utopian dreams, they'll resonate just
enough that I'll know that you'll be worth the risk. I'll
know that if the real-world-you and the real-world-me will
only try, we can dream some amazing dreams together..."
She pulls me closer and kisses me and I'm filled with hope
once again.
"Time to get up now."
©
2023 Robert Alan Silverstein
Fleeting
visions of an impossibly beautiful future of peace and joy
and hope
have
haunted me all my life.
I've
been searching for a utopian dreamer
who'd like to dream with me.
We
would work together to create stories of hope
that reflect glimpses of our shared utopian dreams.
Now,
after so much time alone,
I am broken,
and I can barely remember how to dream.
I
want to hope again that dreams can come true,
and you will find me.
