Dear Dreamer

Oak Trees and Picnic Baskets

Cathy(She/her)                                                                                Mathew ( he/him)

Cathy laughed laying back in the grass, her cheeks warming up from the glowing sun. Mathew smiled as he indulged in the food on the blanket. Cathy and Mathew had decided to go on a picnic atop their hill. Of course it wasn't 'their' hill, but few enough knew about it to consider it so. It was a dainty little hill. With verdurous, flourishing grass holding up an old ancient oak. It was there both their parents had carved their names together and the two-seated swing where their parents sat on dates. This would often cross Mathews mind, as they had been friends for the longest time. Mathew leaned against the trunk of the Oak and patted his stomach.

"You're mom needs to teach you how to make these," he said, holding up one of Cathy's mother's apple tarts.

"You know I've tried, I just make lousy food in general," retorted Cathy.

"The last time you actually 'tried' was like, two years ago," Mathew huffed. "If you learned, I could have them more often." Cathy grimaced, and in an effort to change the subject, asked,

"You think that one person is out there?" Mathew paused, got up and laid down next to her replying,

"Yeah, somewhere."

Truth was, for awhile, Mathew had been in love with Cathy. He spent his whole life next to her and he wished to spend the rest with her too. By her side since birth, at every birthday. Their parents had always known each other, they had found this hill. Mathew wanted to tell her so bad, but he couldn't. He couldn't risk their relationship being jeopardized. He couldn't even stand the thought of her hating him. So he stayed quiet. He put his hands behind his head and looked up to the sky with the faintest of smiles. The wind breathed sweet honey-scented air into his jet black hair and made him quiver in peaceful delight. He looked over to see Cathy's uniquely blue hair strewn across the grass that seemed to grab at it. Her breathing was steadied, face thoughtful. She opened her eyes and rolled over looking him in the eyes, and asked,

"What're you doing goof?"

Realizing he had been staring, he felt his face get hot. Cathy laughed and played with his hair, Mathew smiled and shook off her hand. "Come on, let's clean up and go home," he suggested. He knew he would have to wait, but he could do it... for her.