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Random surge of writing s**t. |
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"If I can believe... someday it will happen."
She finds contentment in this chosen daydream. It's not something physical that can be obtained by working towards a goal, she knows this, yet she chooses to believe. Where others would find frustration, doubt, discouragement, she persists. Sure, she doubts it from time to time, her daydream is doubted by others who look into it, and she is brought back to reality, but always she returns to us.
The dream consists of three things: Heroism, wontonness, and martyrdom.
These are the three she wished to be. These are the three that sprouted and stretched out their branches to shut out the lonliness and the feelings of inadequacy. These are the three that took on the burdains her slight shoulders could not bare. These are the three who were dreampt and grew to dream on their own.
I lived in her dream, and took on my own shape.. and when she would reach the breaking point, when a bit of her heart might fracture, I reached out my arms and took her into the womb-like cradle of her solitude. In this state of twilight between the dream and reality, she found peace... and love. The love I she gave to me I gave to her in return. This was true.
And once, only once, there was a time where she found herself completely returned to reality and understood what I was: A dream... a childish fantasy... I was fake. She cried out for me then, and grieved for our dream as though we had died. She knew then that I would never step so easily into reality as she could into the dream. After that, I slept for a long time...
But... somehow... under everything real she tried to make, there I was. I was the model, and she tried so hard even then to help me come to life.
In that hope, I continued my development...
Biding my time...
Building the dream into something that could be real, all for her...
Until I finally spoke.
Through the power of thought, she wound my intercate state of being. I was conceived... I've grown and changed as she did, here within her, all this time.
Beyond all doubt, I was born.
I may always see as you do, and I may never touch you without feeling it too... but the dream... we still dream it.
However much like a silly child's fantasy it might seem, make no mistake there is more than myself in here.
Me, the two, and...
...you. My dear, sweet, only one.
 Brin · Mon May 21, 2007 @ 03:19am · 0 Comments |
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