cold summer

 i’ve had this dream twice. once last night & once three weeks after one of my best friends, eric committed suicide. there aren’t any words said through out this whole dream.i’m just going to write it down.to get it out.

 i’m alone in a secluded,off white house in the desert. the paint is chipping off and you can see parts of the brown wood underneath. it’s old, its my house in the dream.

 there is nothing in this house except for a very light pink antique parisian love seat with an off white border. there are open windows with no glass, just open square holes in the walls. a light breeze coming in causing the white sheer curtains to waft in the wind.my hair is down & i’m wearing a light pink night gown, it goes down to my ankles.

 i look at the curtains standing in the middle of the room. staring out the window at the sand, some specks glide lightly over one another. & all of the sudden the scene changes.

im standing in the kitchen doorway. the two sided kitchen leads to the dining room where an off white picnic table sits. the paint is chipping off but it still looks beautiful, just like the house. this time i’m in a light pink, off the shoulder dress looking up. glitter confetti falls down, my arms open, my eyes close as my hands catch the confetti. there are boys in tuxedos. though it never shows any of their faces; all of them are talking, laughing, and eating chocolate cake amongst each other. it’s my birthday.

 through out the boys in tuxedos and my birthday party, i’m disconnected. i see people but not their faces. i hear chatter but am not involved in any conversation. i see a familiar face out of the corner of my eye, sitting at the end of the table on the left. wearing all black, but not in a tux. alone, disconnected, content, just like me. i walk over and he turns to me, its my friend eric, he looks up at me smiling only with his eyes.

 all the sudden its back to the beginning of my dream, where i’m standing looking out of the window. i’m back in my pink long gown, only this time.. i’m not alone. eric is standing next to me. we sit together on the old parisian love seat. i lean my head on his shoulder, he leans his head on me. we sit in comfortable silence expressionless.just like we used to.

 then i wake up, feeling like he was really there. feeling like i was just with him, and he was letting me know he’s okay.