Vague**

On that very may morning , I was shaken out of sleep, there was a colossal loss which lingered deep down. Sadness hovered over me like the planets around the sun. It was not a fluke that I saw you in my sleep, and it's still not a fluke that you  kept starring and never said goodbye knowing fully well how much I've missed you.

I dreamed that you called my name; that I turned, making one of those funny faces in cinematic slow motion, which in turn made you smile. I dreamed that with one look you told me everything I had ever wanted to know. We faffed around smoking in the supernatural darkness of night floating across the tops of cities contemplating what next to do. It was such a beautiful dream till I saw the very thing that shook me out of sleep, I can remember vividly how you stared at me from across the road, as if telling me to stay. For some reason, I could have sworn you never wanted me to go, that the long stare was supposed to make me understand what you felt but couldn't express

I woke up with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia, the feel from that dazing revelation which i woke up from not only rendered me emotionless for the better part of that week but enhanced my very perception on how  we are, it made me understand how strong our connection still was, and how whatever we had still waxed . 

It’s not been upto a year since we last  met, since we went back to leading totally separate lives on different sides of the world. But the other night, I dreamed of you and I miss you, but I don’t want the you in real life, whatever that form may be. I miss the you back then, the one who dared to steal moments with me when no one was looking, who risked hurting others in order to inch closer to me. I was all you could see then, and nothing else mattered. We were reckless and even cruel to the people close to us, but we were blissfully happy, a willingness of the heart that burst thunderously on us because we finally found what we wanted for a long time – each other.

When I woke up.

I could still smell you.

Still feel where my hands had been.

Your hands against my hands.

You loved me.

I rolled over.

You weren’t there; but you were. You were in my bed, and then in my shower, then on the bus to school and all day you sat beside me until we rode the bus home together, ate dinner, and climbed back into bed where we kissed that morning; it was so real. 

Someone once said  'all the bright special things fade so fast and they never come back but i strongly believe that separation is only an illusion. 

Our day will come soonest...