Alexis

Lunedì Maniacale/Mamma Carissima

Manic Monday/Mommy Dearest

-

My dream was very odd. Typically, my dreams consisted of three things: my dad/his death, queer moments when I was with my daughter, or, I wouldn't dream at all— is that considered a dream? My dream was a memory but it wasn't what I was used to. In my dream, I was back in Italy, with Vincent, and we were at the beach before we rushed off. Of course, my memory was warped to fit dreamland regulations. I couldn't run. I was too slow and slowly but surely Vincent disappeared and I was alone on the beach yet I wasn't technically alone. The sound of the gunshots was loud. Sound was allowed in dreamland, almost always.

I managed to turn around because someone called my name. Dream Alexis wasn't stupid. She and I knew, what was going on and what happened that day. Both Dream Alexis and Me, Alexis Alexis, knew that on that day, in real life, not dreamland, Roberto was there and attempted to shoot me. I knew that. So when Dream Alexis turned around, we expected to see Roberto. I knew what he looked like. His fucking face was burned into my memory. But Luca was there and he was holding a gun towards me.

And Dream Alexis— fuck it, and Alexis Alexis, was confused why he was doing that. And he was speaking but I heard nothing. And when I asked, my lips moved yet no sound left my throat. And Luca pulled the trigger and I watched, in the slow way that dreamland executes moments, as the bullet left the gun and hit me. I tried to move but I couldn't. And he said something as dreamland started to buffer yet I heard nothing, just saw his lips moving. Look down as my vision skewed, noticed the blood dripping. Falling, falling, falling.

But I was taken out of dreamland and plopped back into real life before I could fully decipher dreamland moments.

I didn't start work until Tuesday. The only thing on my plate today was to see David at one. That meant I could sleep in. And I did. I woke up in Vincent's arms. I slept beautifully as in I felt rested. That dream wasn't beautiful. I felt so comfortable. Everything around me was wonderful. It was a perfect time to wake up and it felt like one of those perfect mornings; the ones from my childhood elementary school days, when Winter break started and I could sleep in. The air in my room was cool since I had my fan on. Vincent and the blankets around me provided the perfect amount of warmth. I enjoyed the feeling. I kept my eyes closed basking in the feeling.

I ended up drifting back asleep. When I woke up, Vincent was up. He was carefully caressing my hair. I blinked a few times, hazily, before I moved closer to him. Vincent held me tighter.

"Buongiorno," Vincent whispered.

"Good morning," I mirrored in English. I shifted a bit so I could see him. His skin looked so soft. I wanted to touch his cheek. Feel his face, warm because he was alive and with me.

"Good sleep?" he asked me, his voice the way men get after they sleep. The way I knew.

I nodded and hummed. "Did you sleep well?" I rephrased his question so it followed English standards.

"Si," he answered. "I missed sleeping next to you," he whispered and he removed a hand from around my waist to cup my cheek. He ran his thumb over my lips.

His small action made me think of bigger actions. I widened my eyes and spoke against his fingers. "Did I drool on you last night?" I asked. I've done it before on him and I felt horrendous, and I knew that recently I've been drooling more often. Of course, it didn't matter when it was just me in bed but that wasn't the case right now.

"No," Vincent whispered and he gently frowned as he moved his thumb to hover over my top lip. "Are you okay?"

I brought my hand up to remove his hand from my face. "Why wouldn't I be?" I asked. Of course, there were a hundred reasons why I wasn't okay. But, I knew after so many hits, things didn't feel the same anymore. I mean: I love my dad, so so dearly, so much, I love him and miss him as nobody knows; I love my daughter, I wish I did everything differently so I could see her, hold her, raise her. But I noticed that I handled those two deaths