Plague Prosaic

10

I dreamt one time.

I was holding someone else's hand, not willing to let go. That feeling has always been inside me, the feeling that if I let go, things would not be the same as it was before.

But then I heard her told me, "Just drop me somewhere safe. Somewhere you're familiar with."

And at that instance, I thought of one place that I used to go when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm angry-that place is the safest place for me.

So I brought her to my old room, the one I had when I was young.

She flashed a sweet smile and meet my eyes as if it were a reflection of hers. I can tell that she's happy, that she's comfortable around these four walls.

"Go now. It's time for you to leave." she said.

I asked, "What about you?"

"Leave me. I need you to go out there and see the world, yourself. You can step out now."

She pushes me outside of the room and reached for the doorknob, but before she close the door, she smiled at me with ease. Giving me an assurance.

"This is a safe place for me. I'll be here, you can always find me here. Thank you for keeping me safe all this time, for protecting me, for enduring me, for being by my side when the world turned their back on me. I am happy here. And you, you'll shine out there. You'll be fine. Go now. "

A tear came down my cheek as she close the door on me.

"Thank you." I uttered as I step away from my old room.

I left her there. My old self. The old me.