u n r e a l • b o o k t w o ✓

two

↞ TWO ↠

I unwillingly stepped into the bathroom and stood directly in front of the sink. Staring into the mirror, I silently observed the deep bags under my eyes and the shadow of a beard beginning to form on my chin. This is a lonely bastard of a man with a boring routine of a life. This is Ezra. This is me.

I reached over towards the clay holder and gripped the tooth brush in my hand. Grabbing the toothpaste, I hesitantly looked at myself again.

"You're never gonna forget about her you prick," I scolded myself.

I sighed before placing the toothpaste on the bristles and raising it up to my widened mouth.

I don't want to forget about you.

When I was done I started the shower. While I was in the shower there was one thing on my mind; you. While I got dressed? You. While I ate a bowl of cereal? You. While I exited my apartment, hanging tightly on to my briefcase? You.

"Morning Ezra!"

I stilled and turned around. With a bright smile on her face, seventy year old Laila Azikiwe stood at the front of her door in her oversized purple night gown, matching slippers, and a black night cap. She had a thick roll of newspapers in her small hands.

"Good morning Mrs. Azi," I greeted kindly.

Without a doubt, Laila has always been the highlight of my day. She gave me a small ounce of happiness, something that I was thankful for.

"Found a special someone yet?" She pestered once again.

I chuckled and shook my head.

"Nothing yet. Doesn't mean I'm not searching," I lied.

If anything I was waiting. Waiting for some portal to open that will lead me into an alternate universe that Theena hopefully lives on.

Laila gave me a pointed look. "Ezra, don't you lie to me. You've found her already. The one. You found her a long time ago. I can see it in your eyes whenever I ask you that question," she muttered at the end. "So where is she?"

"I don't know." I looked down at my polished shoes.

"Well if you don't find her, come to me. I know a nice pretty brown girl who'd be willing to settle with a nice white man like you."

If Laila hadn't said that so seriously, I would have laughed obnoxiously at her statement.

"For the last time Laila, your daughter doesn't think of me that way, and I the same. She is in love with someone else."

Laila's daughter, Simone, has been a close friend and coworker of mine since after college. She has been in love with Daniel, another close friend of ours who also works with us, for years.

"Please," she scoffed. "Your friend Danny? He's as blind as a bat, doesn't even realize what's in front of him I tell you."

"Can't deny that Mrs. Azi."

Laila grinned, sent me off with a wave, and went back into her home.

I smiled and stepped off the curb towards my car. I thought about you that afternoon. While I sat aimlessly behind my desk at work, while I ate lunch in the break room with Simone and Danny, and even while I visited my sister and her kids.

I thought about you that evening too. While I went out to have a drink with some coworkers, while I chatted with a nice girl, while I turned that nice girl down when she invited me back to her place, while I stumbled into my apartment, and while I tripped over my shoes.

Anyone would say that something was wrong with me. That I needed help. Yet I had this feeling. This feeling that I was hanging on to. This feeling that I couldn't let go.

So when I threw myself over on my couch that night because I was just too tired to make it into my room, I closed my eyes. I closed them and slowly brought myself to sleep, because the only thing that got me through the day was shutting my eyes and getting to see you.

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I woke up that Saturday morning confused. I sat up and tried to think about what I dreamed, but nothing came to mind. It had occurred to me that for the first time you weren't in my dreams that night. You weren't there at all. And I couldn't help but wonder where did you go. And something told me that this wasn't a one time thing. Something told me that this was how it would be from now on. I couldn't help but break down because I remembered your words.

"You're going to wake up, and you're going to get through whatever plans you have for the day. And then you're going to meet a girl, and she will be the girl that causes you to forget about me. Because I'm not real."

I did meet a girl last night, but she hadn't made me forget about you. Nothing did. Nothing would. I couldn't let you go.

Because I'm not real.

Because I'm not real.

Because I'm not real.

But you were real. You were real to me. And now I'm here. Alone. With you in my thoughts still. Yes, I had always been alone, but not when I went to sleep. Not when I could be with you. Not when I could pretend that I was yours and you were mine.

My eyes were burning, my throat closing, and my hands shaking. I shook my head over and over again. Questioning why over and over again. I knew that you wouldn't be in my dreams again. I didn't know how, but I knew.

I was breaking over a girl I wanted to believe existed. And I was beginning to realize that maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe I had been in denial all along. Maybe this was all a dream and none of this was real.

My heart was hurting because I wanted you to be real so much. And I would do anything to make it happen, but it wasn't up to me.

And suddenly it hit me. I couldn't let go. So maybe you let go for me.