Dreams

I decided to write again tonight and this is what I came up with.

She finds herself reaching for him in her sleep, her arms outstretched above her, her fingers trying to draw him closer.  She startles awake when in dreams they touch.  She stares at her hands, the electric shock she felt when they met still tingling her nerves, and she wiggles her fingers wondering if it really happened.  She knows he’s gone, yet every night she is hopeful that it isn’t true.  He left, taking his last breath as she held his hand, knowing his pain was gone, but hers was just beginning.  The ache she feels now that her love is gone consumes her most days.  She barely acknowledges the outside world anymore.  Why bother when the physical remains of her reason for breathing were taken by the northwestern wind on an October Sunday?

She still has her dreams, the dreams where they meet under the canopy of the weeping willow they planted on their wedding day.  He visits nightly, his younger self smiling peacefully as they take a seat in the grass.  She can feel the green shoots tickling her legs, the overwhelming smell of lilacs invading her senses.  She wears a party dress made of blue toile, the skirt fanning out around her, her petticoat peeking out.  He leans against the tree, his gray pinstripe suit fitting like a glove as he crosses his legs at the ankles.  She smiles lovingly at him, knowing this moment is ephemeral for whenever they reach for each other he disappears, and they always reach for each other.

Things are different this time.  Tonight, they touch.  Her fingers grazed his shoulder when they attempted to hug and a jolt of electricity shot through his body, startling her awake.  Now she lies in bed, hoping she can will herself back to the dream, back into his arms.  She begs God to send him back to her, telling Him she needs to feel him again as he caresses her cheek and they stare into each other’s eyes, communicating what needs to be said through their gaze.  She pleads for mercy, to end the suffering of the last five months without him.  Tears slip down her face as she pinches her eyes shut.  She feels her fingers buzzing with energy as she opens her eyes and finds him gripping her hand between his.  He smiles down at her and she knows why he came back.  Her breathing is short and rapid before she sucks in her last breath and her heart stops.  Together again, hand in hand, they drift away.

Gloomy Sunday

I wrote this tonight and really like how it turned out.  It’s inspired by the Billie Holiday song “Gloomy Sunday.”

I awaken realizing you are no longer there.  The complete despair leaching into my soul leaves me hollow.  How can I go on without you?  Life isn’t worth living in a world where you no longer exist.  The angels have taken you, never giving me a chance to tell you one last time how much I loved you.  That is what kills me, knowing our last words weren’t confessions of love.  Oh, how I long to hold you one last time, smell your uniqueness, caress your cheek as I gaze longingly into your blue eyes, smiling ever so slightly.  We’d sit on our couch while you tell me about your day and I’d listen intently, hanging on your every word because that is what you did to me.  I was so in love with you.  I am so in love with you.  I became a new person the day we met and I’ve never regretted the change.  You made me a better person, someone not so closed off and resistant to the idea of love.

I throw my legs out of the bed, dropping my head into my hands, knowing how hard it was going to be to function without you by my side.  How can I go on without the person who gave me everything and more?  How can I ever say goodbye as they lower you into the ground, throwing flowers, like our dreams, into a pit six feet deep?  The angels are never going to give you back, no matter how much pleading and begging I do in the minutes before I fall into a restless slumber.

I place my bare feet on the cold wood floor and shuffle to the wardrobe that holds the black outfit your mother picked out for me to wear as I say my final goodbyes.  The dress can never convey the emptiness I feel since you left.  No one understands the misery I undergo without the love of my life holding me at night.

Robotically, I slip the black dress over my body, tears threatening to fall.  Today I say goodbye to you, my love, but would the angels forgive me if I joined you?  Would they forgive me if I gave everything up to be with you again?  Being with you is all that matters, even if death is the only way.

I sneak out the front door and take a cab across the city, instructing the driver to take me to the Brooklyn Bridge.  I’ll see you, my love; it won’t be long until you are in my arms again.  I reach my final destination, pay the cabbie and walk along the side of the bridge.  I stare over the edge, my heart beating wildly at the anticipation of seeing you.  I climb over the railing, look down at my fate and let go.

I awaken, my heart beat pulsating in my ears, my breathing ragged and quick.  I am in our bed, alive.  I glance over to your side and I see you sleeping peacefully.  I watch the rise and fall of your chest, relieved that it was all a dream.  Sliding closer to you, I lay my head on your shoulder and whisper into your ear everything about how much I love you and need you.  You rustle in your sleep and your eyes pop open.  Blue meets hazel and a sleepy smile graces your lips.  I love you, my love, always.