The Door to Tomorrow

Hey, You

When I came to, I realized I was sitting on a soft queen-sized bed. My legs were covered by a thick blue quilt, and next to me was the man from the previous dream. He seemed either bored or melancholy—I couldn't tell. He sat up, back pressing against his pillow. He was winding up a music box that played a calm, enchanting tune. The music box was probably some kind of antique, and it looked like a miniature carousel. The only things I remember about his face were that he was indeed older than me, and that he was one of the most handsome guys I had ever seen in my life. He definitely rivaled Allen in that regard.

"Hey, you. I saw you in my dream last night, too. What's your name?"

"My name is Joseph."

"What...?" When he spoke to me this time, I realized something—I felt like I already knew him. On top of that, I felt some kind of deep connection with him.

"Did you not hear me?" he sounded irritable.

"No, I heard you. I just. Um..."

"You've been reading my journals, haven't you?"

"Y-Yeah. How did you know?"

"I just know."

"...Right. Listen, Joseph, I have a lot of questions for you. First of all, how's your life? Are you okay?"

He answered my question with another question and knit his brow slightly. "Why are you so concerned about someone like me?"

"Because I feel like I know you from somewhere. Have we met? Were we friends or something?" I asked, ignoring the awkwardness presented by his obvious lack of self-esteem.

"We have spoken in person before," he confirmed.

"I knew it. Who are you to me? And...where are you?" I moved closer to him, which made him obviously self-conscious. He didn't have anywhere to go since the wall was right next to him. I cornered him on purpose. I obviously had a thing for attractive older guys in general, but the timid, reserved ones really got me going.

He pouted and sheepishly looked down at the little carousel. "I can't tell you. And I can't tell you because I can't tell you. Just so we're clear."

"Why not?"

"It's a secret. I'm also not telling you anything new about the journal entries. Find that out on your own, will you?"

"About the journals—volume two has a lot of missing information."

"If it's not there, it's not important right now."

"Right now? Wait, can you see the future or something?"

"I cannot. This right here is my only ability."

"You mean...the whole dream thing?" I tilted my head in confusion. I had never heard of anything like that.

Joseph nodded. I still didn't fully understand what he meant.

"Hey, what do you think of this?" He held the carousel up. Its sweet, nostalgic melody began to wind down.

"The music box? It's nice."

"How much would you pay for it?" Joseph inquired.

"Not much. I don't have money for something that fancy-lookin'."

"I see."

"How much did you pay for it?"

"Nothing. It was a birthday gift." Joseph smiled and set it near the foot of the bed, then tried to settle back into his previous position. It wasn't easy with me so close, though. His arm brushed against mine, and his face turned bright red.

"How old are you?" I asked just to make sure my estimation was correct.

"I am forty-seven years old." More than two decades? Sign me the fuck up, I thought.

I still couldn't forget about Allen, however. I wanted to see him at least one more time, even if it was to say goodbye. He wasn't the man I thought he was, and I wanted to let him know that. I finally had the confidence to do it now that I had met Joseph, with whom I had some kind of emotional connection. I thought that if I could find Joseph, then maybe someday we could take things a little further.

"By the way," I began, "Why did you kiss me?"

"Well," Joseph fidgeted. "I wanted you to remember me once you woke up." Uh-huh. Sure you did, I thought. I knew there had to be another reason.

No matter how many times I asked him, however, he still claimed that was the only reason.

Anyway, I trusted the aloof, introverted Joseph quite a bit. In fact, I trusted him so much that I confided in him about my situation. That, of course, led back to the journals. I asked him if he knew where his journals were, and he refused to answer. He did that with most of my questions, actually. Joseph seemed rather annoyed by my constant querying, so he decided to give me at least one answer: there were six journals in total.

I tried to ask Joseph more about himself, but he avoided answering again.

Once we ran out of things to talk about, I gave Joseph a kiss on the cheek, much to his surprise. This time, his ears turned the same rosy blush color his face did before. He stared at me, awe-stricken before the dream as a whole faded away.

I woke up calmer than I did the previous time. I reached for the dream diary again and wrote a summary of the lucid dream before it had a chance to disappear from my memory.