Kind of funny how things work out in life. Life is like a river… it bends and it weaves its way through the landscape. You think that it is forced to go a certain way due to the land, but you come to realize that it is both being shaped by and shaping the environment around it. Life it the same. We are both the outcomes of and the perpetrators of our circumstances. 

I always thought it was funny that I fell for someone I’ve never seen in person. I always thought it was fate’s cruel game that we always invariably fell apart right before or during my visits to his city. It’s not just fate though… I have a hand in it too. Maybe subconsciously I knew I wasn’t ready to face him in person and say goodbye. Maybe I knew just hard that farewell would be. Maybe I knew just how much I actually needed to protect my heart. 

I’m going back there today. I’m actually in the airport typing this. It’s night time and I can hardly see out the windows with all the bright lights reflecting off of it. But there’s a plane out there, lined up with the gate. In about 45 minutes, I’ll be soaring away from the ground and towards a city that I will only ever see as a chapter in a sorry tale. 

It’s not his fault… of course it’s not. It’s mine, in many ways. I always called him “city-boy” and I would always dream about meeting with him there, finally. Meeting with him and ending the cycle, once and for all. Then when we stopped talking (those many times), I’d dream that we’d bump into each other in his city… we’d make eye contact and go our separate ways. I’d dream that we’d walk away with a smile on our faces knowing that the other was doing well. 

Now… now I don’t know what to dream. Now I don’t want to dream of his city. I don’t want to dream of him. 

I just wish I could dream about waterfalls and giant caterpillars and mermaids and underwater mysteries. I wish I could dream about being the hero again, instead of dreaming of being rescued or left behind. What happened to my dreams? I hardly remember the ones I have, but when I do… they’re usually about people and places I know. Real life things. They’re not fantasies anymore. They’re not epic stories. They’re not fairytales about dragon hunting or action films about zombie hunting. They’re so real, I wake up and I hurt all over again. I now dream about people that have come and gone in my life. I dream about people that I haven’t met and that I hope will come. I dream about people that I don’t think I have ever met or will ever meet, but that somehow have managed to touch me through that pane of glass which is sleep. 

I just want to be who I used to be. That’s something they never tell you about when it comes to heartbreak – just how very much it changes the person you are… down to your very core. 

I’m suddenly thirsty and need a drink before I catch my plane. I’ll try my hardest to make this trip about me and friends and the city. I’ll try my hardest to leave my past in the past and not in his city. I’ll try my hardest to stop calling it his city. It’ll be a trying time. 

– L


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