Star Crossed

☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

                                                                                                  One

And there he is, his black hair shining in the sun, his tan skin illuminated by its rays, like glistening gold that I can't help but feel the need to touch. I look at him and somehow, I just know that he's the one. The one I was destined to meet and never let go of. Somehow, I think he might feel the same too, because he looks at me with such admiration, like he's so grateful he gets to see me at long last. Almost as if we've known each other forever. And in this moment, I feel like we really have known each other forever, too. I blink, taking in the moment for all it has to offer, not opening my eyes for a long time. I go to open them, but something is wrong..

I'm now awake, in my cold, dark room, staring at my boring ceiling. I try to close my eyes again, wanting to immerse myself back into the dream because that is where I'm supposed to be. I'm supposed to be with.. Him.

His name feels like a whisper I can not hear, like the words are supposed to be recognizable in my thoughts, but they're not. It feels like if I took a few more moments to try and find his name through all my memories, I'd remember it. I never have, though. No matter how much I hate myself for not being able to figure anything out about this man, I simply can't grasp anything. It's like my knowledge of him, to who this man is, just is not comprehensible. I feel my chest tighten as frustration rushes through me, like it has every other time I've pressured myself into trying to learn anything about who this man is, and why he won't stop appearing in my dreams.

I can't even remember when these dreams started. As I've grown up, I've talked to my parents about these recurring dreams, asking why and how and when. So many questions about when.

"When will these dreams about him stop?"

"When will I find out who he is?"

"When will I be normal?"

I still haven't gotten answers to any of my questions, and I still wonder.

I've told my friends about dream boy, and they either thought it was cute, or ridiculous. The worst is when they think I'm lying.

So as I've grown up, dreaming of this boy, I've watched him grow. Somehow though, it feels like he's seen me grow, too. We're the same age, I can assume. When I was 8, I had a dream that I was at his birthday party. On top of the cake was a very glittery candle shaped like an 8.

It feels good to know that small detail, his age. He must be 16 now, as it's already December 24th, the day before my birthday. It's so late in the year that it only leaves a few extra days for him to have a birthday after mine. Could you imagine having a birthday on December 31st, New Year's eve?

I sigh a breath of exasperation. I really should get ready for school.