i can’t say i know you, nor can i say otherwise. you have the quirks of someone i love dearly but the face of someone i cannot put a name to. it’s there, deep in the recesses of my memories, but even with all the things i know i remember, i know i cannot remember you.
i lay down in the grass with you, the nameless, faceless boy who moved with a certain grace and elegance, a sureness to your actions. as if everything was pre-planned and you were going through the motions exactly the way you’d envisioned long before. as if you were so completely certain of the impact of your fingertips upon everything you touched.
and in that field, under a strikingly azure sky, surrounded by the scent of spring, i remember feeling satisfied, contented - a feeling i thought was long gone and lost. i don’t recall what you said, rather the way you said it, running fingers through your hair, speaking with the fondness one uses when speaking with a long-time confidant. and your laugh, not so much a tinkling or a sparrow’s song but a sound so happy it made my heart ache to hear it, and made me want to believe that everything was as beautiful as the way you saw it through your eyes.
i don’t remember how it happened but you were on top of me, pulling the thin cardigan i had discarded for the warmth of the sun over the top of your head as you eased your lithe frame over mine. i remember the warmth from your skin, only as scalding as a human’s touch can be yet electrifying where it touched mine. warmth, inside my ribcage, in your eyes, everywhere, under the springtime sun.
i was the one to break eye contact first. even as beautiful as your eyes were, a color that mesmerised me and yet eludes my memory, even as beautifully as you pleaded with those pieces of stars i broke eye contact first. you were so close i could smell the coffee on your breath and the smell of you, making my heart beat faster than i ever thought could, lips slightly parted, asking me, begging me, silently.
it would probably be my only regret that in a dream where there are absolutely no repercussions except those on my soul i still felt fear and a trepidation enough to make me shy away from a boy i didn’t know and might never see again. i saw the split-second but definite disappointment flash through your eyes as i apologised, meaningless words, sorry, sorry, sorry. i hate myself now for being scared and for making you have to shrug it off, fling the cardigan away, rid us of that translucent blue light and the little space where i knew i was safe with you.
yet for all it was worth i remember your smile. and it broke my heart.
and that was that. with the glare of the sun came the blare of my alarm and i was back, in the darkness of my room, heart racing from the almost-ness of contact. they say every face in your dream was someone you’ve seen before - stranger or not, so who are you? who were you for those few minutes where i saw every detail up close, surely i will remember in time - all this i ask and all this i tell myself as i fight to bring to mind the face of the boy i cannot for the life of me remember.
