Coffee with some cream and two teaspoons of sugar. Breakfast, two eggs, over easy, with freshly baked bread. Notebook in hand, looking at my notes. Her face keeps popping in my mind. A message saying good morning. I don’t feel in the mood to respond. I put my notebook down, get up and look out the window, coffee in hand. There is nothing to look at, the scenery is static. On my back I can still feel her warm hands touching me. I reach out to try and catch her hand, but there is nothing. I try to pull myself back together, so I go do the dishes. I feel lustful. I haven’t made a fucking dime from my writing in the past six months, I think to myself as I try to restrain those thoughts. Her eyes pop out into my mind, as they disappear loneliness fills up the void left behind. What are you going to do today, was the followup message. I answer that I don’t feel in any kind of mood, so I am going to try and clear my mind by relaxing and maybe taking a walk. As I send that message a thought springs into my mind that says that we dream of strangers we met recently.

Phone in the right pocket, laptop in a bag, keys, money, I verify that I have everything I need for a day out as I run down the stairs. 10 AM and not many people on the street, just me and some elderly men and women as we wait for the bus. Curiosity wakes up and shakes a question as I look at these people, asking if I were to ask them what they did during their life time… What would they respond and how many of them would regret their life they are going to leave behind. The bus arrives, I get on, a bunch of students. Between them a brunette with gorgeous skin and brown eyes catches my eyes as I sit down. Her long flowing hair, that smile, she catches me looking. I avert my eyes, and start squeezing my own hand as I look into the floor. I can feel her eyes looking me up and down with confidence. I start to ask myself if it really is her, or if I am just a lustful moron daydreaming in a bus full of students and old people. As the door opens, she passes by me and gets off. I without thinking I follow her.

I don’t think she noticed, I think, just as she looks back smiling. Thoughts rush through my mind, feelings ambush me as I try to reason with myself. The storm within my melon makes me forget what I am doing, as I walk and I bump into someone that stopped in their tracks. I look at them, apologize before realizing that it was that brunette. My words stumble out of my mouth into quite a mess. Embarrassed I tell her I am sorry as she reaches out with her hand to introduce herself. I shake her hand, smile, and I don’t even hear her name. Looking at her now closely, I freeze, and as she talks I realize it’s not her. The one talking before me seems to be innocent, like a freshmen in college, not the woman from my dream. Apologizing once more, I take my leave, disappointed that I haven’t found her. But mostly disappointed that I am as delusional as ever to believe in dreams I dreamt last night. Or maybe just missing that passionate love, or it’s the fear of “forever”, I think to myself as I look for a cafe to sit down and try to make sense of the mess I am.

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