Homeless..

it's hard to put some dreams into a story.... ans short as it is, without derailing the emotion this dream left me with, i cannot put it differently..




We sat in a group around the fire, the park lush and green, the trees whipsering to the breeze as it caressed them, as the sunlit sky turned into an atmospheric twillight. Covered in our blankets some of us paired with each other, some of us sat single, but all together and just as we shared accomodation, we sat as a group. We spoke at ease, generally chatting about nothing, some voicing their opinion about little things, others content just to listen. She moved a little closer to me, and this surprised me as while I liked her, I had no idea how she felt towards me.

Snuggling even a little closer, I felt her body next to mine. It felt so good, her soft skin under her loose clothing, the smell of her hair lifted my heart and even though nothing was said and the silence between us spoke more than any words could, it just felt so good to be next to her. I let myself go in the moment. I was excited and scared, both at once, and it felt thrilling.

She looked at me, and our eyes met, hers so deep and desirable reflecting the firelight that I simply fell into her. Uncontrollably drawn into her. Intoxicated. The fire crackled in the middle of the group, and the dim night sky echoed above us and on forever, shimmering with starlight. She reached over to pull her blanket over mine, and accidentally her arm fell across my lap. She noticed in an instant, my excitement at her closeness; an unintended development but one that I could no more control than the beating of my heart. She smiled and suddenly I felt such desire as she did not mind. More importantly, perhaps she did like me.

Days go by. We became closer and closer, but still there was a distance between us. One I fear, was that wall I had built between myself, and the rest of the world. I wanted to explain to her how all of my life I’d never truely felt this way towards someone, let alone someone so absolutely beautiful as her. But would this make her see me differently? How I acted now had more of an impact on every single thought I dared consider, as one wrong action could crumble this wonderful feeling and destroy so much. So I kept silent about such things. Better to be thought a fool and be silent, I pondered, than to open my mouth and remove all doubt.

Weeks go by. I noticed that she was talking more with him. Was it just that I noticed this now, or was this how it had always been. Do I ignore it? Do I let it create emotions within me that I have not felt in so long? They seem to get along quite well, it appears. But I won’t let this build up inside of me. I am once again left to simply watch my life unfold without control. Things that I cannot control. Things that are not mine to control. My heart becomes heavy, and sadness begins to sweep away the fallen leaves of an autumns happiness.

Months go by. She talks to me as if we are still close, but now I know it’s just friendship. How can it be any more? I am not someone she can ever feel anything more for. I was a fool to think otherwise. Jealousy and regret are my only companions, in a life strewn with broken hopes and unrequited love. She smiles at me from across the room. And then her attention turns to him, her face illuminated with excitement.

I feel anger and hatered towards him. But it’s not my place to feel anything. It never was. He is no more at fault than I am, for feeling something for her that develops purely from the heart. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe this is my self depreciation, once more boiling to the surface, to spit, and froth my emotions so as to render me incapable of logical thought. Maybe...

I wake up, it’s nearly 8am. Groggy and yawning, I crawl out of bed and stand there for a moment to let my thoughts settle and my mind adapt to being awake. Coffee, I need a coffee. I open my door, and start down the hall. Others in the house have already started their day, cleaning and vaccuming. Some just watching the morning news on tv. Everyone set to task and without complaint.

He opens his door, and staggers out, scratching his stomach and wiping his eyes of the sleep and bleariness. I stop and think about everything for a moment, but it’s all a blur of emotion, and I cannot feel anything but emptiness. I continue towards the kitchen, but suddenly, she walks out of his bedroom, and buttoning up her top she stops as she see’s me and our eyes catch. Frozen in the moment, neither of us move. My heart stops beating.

Suddenly a rage fills me, an uncontrollable anger that I can no longer contain. I storm into the lounge where he is sitting on the floor staring blankly at the tv, and without a second thought I start to kick him ferociously in the head and body. He falls to the ground, and I continue. Not a word is spoken. People rush into the room and stare, as he covers his face from my feet. She comes in and screams at me. All I hear is the anger in my mind, all of the deceit. All of the betrayal. All of the #ing temptation she created within me.

I land more kicks to his face, and seeing the large knife on the counter where someone had been slicing bread, I grab it. I raise my arms above my head, and look down. He is sobbing, his face all bloodied and his eyes darkened. Scared and damaged, he stares petrified into my eyes. She continues screaming at me. I breathe deeply, and raise my arms higher. Then... slowly lower my arms. I look at him, and then at her. I drop the knife and step over his meaningless body, towards the front door.

As I open the door, not a single person moves in the house. Everyone just stares at me. It’s raining outside, a drizzle, but the sky is dark with overcast clouds and the sun dares not make an appearance. I stand at the door, and look around the city. Old men with scraggly beards make their way to day shift scavanging for food and begging for money, carrying their entire belongings with them as they make their way around the broken footpaths.

As I cross the busy street, a young boy looks at me while holding his fathers hand. The look in his eye is the same look I had in my eye the first time I became homeless and saw the deranged broken people living on the street. I guess my shift has just started, as I slowly wander aimlessly down the empty rain soaked sidewalk, the smell of misery in the air, and with jealousy and regret, met with new emotional scars, as my only companions.

Wow!!

What a well written story, with very strong words put together.

She looked at me, and our eyes met, hers so deep and desirable reflecting the firelight that I simply fell into her. Uncontrollably drawn into her. Intoxicated.

I already had this feeling and it's a (always too short) moment that you'll never forget in your all life.

The question now could be "What makes you cross the line?". It's all about IMO lack of discuss at one point. Maybe there was some misunderstanding that could have been clear up with only few words...

Originally posted by elevenaugust
Wow!!

What a well written story, with very strong words put together.

Thank you! I was reluctant to post because I often put too many words together (or so I'm told) but I just couldn't find any way to express things as I felt them. I still do not think I put across the feeling I had. But maybe in time.. I'm not a writer, but this dream really affected me.

She looked at me, and our eyes met, hers so deep and desirable reflecting the firelight that I simply fell into her. Uncontrollably drawn into her. Intoxicated.

I already had this feeling and it's a (always too short) moment that you'll never forget in your all life.

The question now could be "What makes you cross the line?". It's all about IMO lack of discuss at one point. Maybe there was some misunderstanding that could have been clear up with only few words...

I can't say, I've always been the person in the story to be honest. I find myself lost in the world of relationships that I walk softly. And it's not worked out so far

But it's amazing how dreams can become so vivid for us that we live them in our waking life, this one affected me all day, so I had to write it. So, in that I apologise for it's brevity and shortcomings. We always miss small parts when we recount dreams later in the day.

ooh now should I write a nightmare of mine. I do not know where they come from, but vivid and horrific. Yet.. well, maybe not !! I fear even they would lose things in translation..