After bidding farewell to Fularstein, I headed home. The agonizing hours on the train were taking their toll on my eyes, which were losing their admiration with each passing moment. Almost full of sleep, they rolled between dream and reality until, at a late hour around ten, I slowly fell asleep under the scent of a cup of coffee.
A young lady walked with me in the hospital. Although I had never seen her before, my soul was at peace. Could she have been someone familiar? And why was she holding my hand, I don’t know who she is! The doors were all labeled from 300 upwards, and the two of us were looking for one of our own, one where we had to go, but… why? Perplexed, I knelt down and measured her from head to toe. I felt the need to call her Cristina because the pain in my chest still lingered under the charm of my memories.
An angelic gaze looked at me and… did I freeze?! She is not a Cristina, she is not my Cristina… Brown-haired, curly, charming… Who are you? And why do you bring me peace? The uncertainty strangles me, and I am trapped in a vacuum of questions… I want answers! Suddenly, the syringe of happiness shattered any doubt… I was so injected with happiness because of her… SHE! She is mine! She is…
I stood up, gently held her hand, and walked towards the exit. My father was walking down the stairs. I was about to run, to tell him that he hadn’t been the best father to me, but I still love him… but she stops me… Ah! My whole body was reflected in her, and there was peace, peace even in my thoughts. Why leave her side?
I woke up… The thought of her… her gaze… my state was one of shock… the rare pleasant shock of a winter night. Is it a paradigm or is it my future? Should I believe in fate through a dream? Or is it just my hidden desire, magnified Idealist?
@blogdemausart, written on the 11th of Feb, 13, published on the 18th of Feb, 24
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