A Midsummer Night's Dream

21

THEODORE

Diana and I lay in her bed at the estate. She was laying with one of her legs sprawled over me possessively and her arms wrapped around my torso. We were both completely naked under the sheets, having just finished with a sex-filled afternoon well spent together. I had dedicated myself to exploring and worshiping every inch of her body and to giving her a dozen orgasms in a dozen ways and I was proud to say I more than succeeded.

We were relaxing now, listening to David Bowie's Young Americans album.

I swirled Diana's hair around my fingers as I read from my book.
Diana was staring out the window at the grounds of the estate. I wanted to ask what she was thinking of but I was too shy to do so.

Diana and I had spent very moment of the past two days together. Diana was leaving tomorrow and we still hadn't talked about that. I suddenly realized that we were on borrowed time, that time is always borrowed, and that the lending agency exacts its premium precisely when we are least prepared to pay and need to borrow more... We hadn't said anything about her leaving. It was just our minds telling itself that we had time, that the conversation could be delayed, that the end would never come as long as we believed it wouldn't.

"What are you reading?" Diana asked.

"A book. Charles Dickens."

"You're so wise with your books and writing." Diana admired.

"I'm not wise at all. I told you, I know nothing. I know books, and I know how to string words together—it doesn't mean I know how to speak about the things that matter most to me."

"What does."

"I don't know how to word it." I didn't know how to word the things that meant the most to me. Her.

"Why do you read so much."

"I don't understand... Sort of an escape. Reading helps me live a hundred lives in one. It makes my life worthwhile with the hope that the things that happen to those amazing characters will happen to me." I looked at her and smiled, "Some of those beautiful things have happened already."

Diana sighed and looked at my face.
"I don't want this to end."

"Neither do I."

"It's been so ethereal, so fantasy-like, as if it were a dream. A midsummer night's dream."

"Like that play by Shakespeare?"

"No. Way less donkeys." She laughed. "More like a dream where you're dream is you're perfect reality. It has a dream-like quality of love beneath the eyes of the dreamer to produce rare visions. Visions one could only experience in a dream. The type of dream in which you fear waking up and when you finally do you try to go back to sleep, go back into the dream but it's just not possible. You get what I mean?"

I nodded. "A Midsummer Night's Dream." I repeated.

"It's about dinner time now. We should get dressed." Diana suggested, slowly getting up.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's do that." I replied.

We washed the stickiness off ourselves in the shower and put on some clothes.

I pulled on my billowy cotton shirt and came out of the bathroom to find her sitting by the window, gazing out at the sunset and rolling lawns and maze like gardens.

"I'll never get over the view." Diana finally said after her long silence which had lasted what felt like hours.

"You don't have to."

"I do."

"We could have this forever. Why couldn't we?" I frustratedly rubbed the back of my neck.

She turned to me and sighed, "My aunt is selling the estate. All the paperwork and packing has been done already. She's bought herself a penthouse in Paris."