He wakes up totally oblivious to his surroundings. It's absolute silence. Dead stillness. It was a rather beautiful dream, he thinks, because the reality? Not so beautiful. Wishing he'd rather stay in his dreams and his fantastical worlds, he rues waking up, like he has for the rest of his life except when it used to be for her. A book lies half open on his chest named "The Sun is also a Star". It's filled with freakish coincidences, excellent coincidental timing and hopeless romance, everything he is and loves about them(him and her). The main character is amazingly positive, just like our guy right here so the book is going nicely. He takes the book from his chest and places it on the bed besides him.
It smells of fresh rain and her presence but she's not here. She has not been here in a while. He remembers how time stood still when he stared at her while she slept peacefully in that bed and his arms. Missing her is inescapable and loving her is inevitable. A smile dances on his lips as he's drowning in the whirlpool of the part of the reality when she was here last time and how time stood still yet ran away so effortlessly and cruelly. If he had a way of stopping time for one moment in his life for a few hours, it'd have been then and there. Magically, or rather miraculously he's dozed off again but it's not sleep this time. This time rather it's a dream, or should I say the reality he wishes to experience again. The union that should happen. It's about time, he thinks.
There's that enthralling smile again. There's those bewitching eyes again. There she goes, in front of him, out of the beach-side house. Giggling at the way he stares at her like she's not real. But she's not. It's a dream. So he runs after her, it's a sunny day, the grass is greener, the ocean is bluer and she's captivating. Everything is so dreamy. They run down to the ocean, him after her. He is fast but just to let her take him where she wants, he doesn't quite catch her. "There's the beach", he thinks, "What's up with her today?". Apparently she has some special plans today, or should I say he has some special plans today because dreams are rather a figment of his imagination. The beach is public, but the place she has in mind is not. It's theirs and theirs alone, as nobody knows about it and nobody ever will because they made it. There's a secret to everything, a mysterious grin on her face. Takes him inside the little cave that's barely visible to anyone at all, because it's hidden obviously. The specialty of this cave is, that as you go in deeper, there comes a place where it has an uncovering and it shows the milky way in all its glory. She has made quite a setup here, stupefying him more as it comes. He can't stop staring, at the whole setup, and of course, the miracle she is. She's smiling again, shit. Damn. Daaaaamnnn. Fuck. How can somebody be this gorgeous and captivating, this is absolute criminal, totally unacceptable, precisely torturous. There's a fire burning nearby, another of her thoughtful deed, and there's one burning inside him. It's done and dusted. No more staying away, he decides. No more torture, he tells himself. He takes a couple of steps towards her, then a couple more, then a couple more till the distance between them is minimal. His heart is definitely going to burst out of his chest any moment at the rate his heart is beating right now. He doesn't care if this is his end. He doesn't care about anything right now. He stands almost against her, takes her beautiful face in his hands, feeling every inch and every bit of this beautiful creation. Praises his God.
It would be almost atrocious if he wakes up at this instant, right? But he does. From this unbelievable dream, at probably the most important moment, he wakes up but everything is for a reason, right? There she is. Once more. In 3D, in reality. He's not really sure though. He shouldn't be. She's unreal, she always has been. She's closing the door silently, as almost not to wake him up and putting her things on the kitchen table. And this is how she is worth it, every single time. She has always been worth it. It has always been worth it, the sleepless nights, the restless days and the sacrifices, the compromises made. Everything is worth it. Faith is a beautiful thing, he tells himself. He stares at her with half open eyes, it's night-time and The Night We Met is playing in the background. She always had a thing for creating the moments the way she created magic on the canvas.
And then he puts on the act of pretending to sleep, for he knows what's about to come next.
It smells of fresh rain and her presence but she's not here. She has not been here in a while. He remembers how time stood still when he stared at her while she slept peacefully in that bed and his arms. Missing her is inescapable and loving her is inevitable. A smile dances on his lips as he's drowning in the whirlpool of the part of the reality when she was here last time and how time stood still yet ran away so effortlessly and cruelly. If he had a way of stopping time for one moment in his life for a few hours, it'd have been then and there. Magically, or rather miraculously he's dozed off again but it's not sleep this time. This time rather it's a dream, or should I say the reality he wishes to experience again. The union that should happen. It's about time, he thinks.
There's that enthralling smile again. There's those bewitching eyes again. There she goes, in front of him, out of the beach-side house. Giggling at the way he stares at her like she's not real. But she's not. It's a dream. So he runs after her, it's a sunny day, the grass is greener, the ocean is bluer and she's captivating. Everything is so dreamy. They run down to the ocean, him after her. He is fast but just to let her take him where she wants, he doesn't quite catch her. "There's the beach", he thinks, "What's up with her today?". Apparently she has some special plans today, or should I say he has some special plans today because dreams are rather a figment of his imagination. The beach is public, but the place she has in mind is not. It's theirs and theirs alone, as nobody knows about it and nobody ever will because they made it. There's a secret to everything, a mysterious grin on her face. Takes him inside the little cave that's barely visible to anyone at all, because it's hidden obviously. The specialty of this cave is, that as you go in deeper, there comes a place where it has an uncovering and it shows the milky way in all its glory. She has made quite a setup here, stupefying him more as it comes. He can't stop staring, at the whole setup, and of course, the miracle she is. She's smiling again, shit. Damn. Daaaaamnnn. Fuck. How can somebody be this gorgeous and captivating, this is absolute criminal, totally unacceptable, precisely torturous. There's a fire burning nearby, another of her thoughtful deed, and there's one burning inside him. It's done and dusted. No more staying away, he decides. No more torture, he tells himself. He takes a couple of steps towards her, then a couple more, then a couple more till the distance between them is minimal. His heart is definitely going to burst out of his chest any moment at the rate his heart is beating right now. He doesn't care if this is his end. He doesn't care about anything right now. He stands almost against her, takes her beautiful face in his hands, feeling every inch and every bit of this beautiful creation. Praises his God.
It would be almost atrocious if he wakes up at this instant, right? But he does. From this unbelievable dream, at probably the most important moment, he wakes up but everything is for a reason, right? There she is. Once more. In 3D, in reality. He's not really sure though. He shouldn't be. She's unreal, she always has been. She's closing the door silently, as almost not to wake him up and putting her things on the kitchen table. And this is how she is worth it, every single time. She has always been worth it. It has always been worth it, the sleepless nights, the restless days and the sacrifices, the compromises made. Everything is worth it. Faith is a beautiful thing, he tells himself. He stares at her with half open eyes, it's night-time and The Night We Met is playing in the background. She always had a thing for creating the moments the way she created magic on the canvas.
And then he puts on the act of pretending to sleep, for he knows what's about to come next.
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