The Make-Up Artist: Part 2

Prologue: The Dream

You are sitting on the beach back at Aberystwyth with Taron. It's a particularly sunny day, which seems a bit out of a place considering the overall gloomy weather this part of the country seems to have. At least what you've seen of it. Today however the weather is perfect; calm, still and just the right temperature. You are both sitting at the water's edge directly on the smooth rocky shore, no blanket or anything beneath you, but it doesn't bother you in the least. The ground could be filled with fluffy clouds for all you know. The waves are quite high at the moment so the sea spray hits you in the face every once in awhile, but you don't care, you're too happy. Taron is sitting cross-legged on the beach facing the water and you are perched happily on his lap, gazing lovingly down at his face. He's dressed in the glittery baseball uniform from the movie, just like the last time you saw him, but this doesn't seem odd to you and you don't bother to wonder why. You notice that his hair and face are damp, with tiny little beads forming on his forehead and temple, and you're not sure if it's from sweat or the sea water. You bring your hands up to his receding hairline and smooth his hair back against his head. Then you run your hands down and over his face, loving the way he tilts his head up toward you and closes his eyes as you caress him. You love touching his face, you always have. After trailing your fingers all over his lovely features, you lean down and close your own eyes and kiss him gently on his salty lips. Taron cradles you tightly against him as the warmth from his mouth fills you to the core with a tenderness that makes you want to cry. Needing to feel him even closer, you bring your hands down his face and neck to wrap them around his back; but when you reach the place where his broad shoulders should be, your hands grasp at thin air and close into tight fists. Opening your eyes, you find that you are now sitting alone on the beach and the skies have turned grey and dull. The rocks are no longer smooth and they jut out at your skin, jabbing and prodding you with their sharp edges. The wind suddenly picks up and it whips your hair into your face and eyes, stinging you with sea water. Brushing your hair out of your face so that you can see, you stand up to look around, thinking he might have just wandered off somewhere. Doing a complete 360 turn and bracing yourself against the raging wind, you finally face the water again to see him standing in the shallow waves, some ten feet away from you. You have to squint against the wind, but you can see that the water is lapping forcefully at his calves, soaking his costume and turning it an odd flat color. The bright sequins of the clothing are gone, and are now replaced with something dreary and colorless. You're confused, but you hold your hands out to him anyway, beckoning him to come back to you. But he simply stares into your eyes with an empty expression that makes you feel hollow inside. His once luminous eyes now match his outfit, lifeless and without color. You watch in horror as he slowly walks backwards against the foamy water, never taking his eyes off yours, until he's up to his waist, then his shoulders, then his head... Then Taron is gone. You want to scream but you can't find your voice and your throat is tightening by the second. You want to run to him but your feet are like cement against the unrelenting ground beneath you. You feel the panic rise within you, the chest pain engulfing you, the fear paralyzing you...until all you see is black...

Then, you wake up. 

It's the same dream you've been having at least once a week since you returned home almost five months ago. The level of intensity varies from night to night; sometimes it's accompanied by chest pains, sometimes it isn't. You've grown accustomed to it and expect it to plague your nightly slumbers from time to time, and have even put off going to sleep until you literally can't keep your eyes open to keep the nightmare at bay. Usually when you wake, you practice the breathing techniques the doctor gave you to try and calm the panic attacks you sometimes experience.  Inhaling slowly and deeply through your nose. Keeping your shoulders relaxed. Trying to focus on your abdomen expanding and keeping your chest still. Exhaling slowly through your mouth. Pursing your lips slightly, but keeping your jaw relaxed. You repeat this breathing exercise for several minutes until the anxiety subsides. Breathe in...breathe out... Breathe in...breathe out... On rare occasions, you've even taken to texting Richard to have a calming "voice" to talk you down. You've tried not to bother him too much, he really is a good friend and you don't want him to think you are simply using him as your emotional support animal, so to speak. You've never told him the details of the dream, just that you sometimes have nightmares which cause you to have anxiety attacks. You know rationally that they are only dreams, but they're so real and unsettling that you can't help but wonder what they mean, if they mean anything. Richard has suggested that it might be time to think about talking to a professional, but you're not quite ready to take it to that level just yet.

One thing you've been careful not to do, even when the nightmares are at their worst, is let yourself cry. Because you know once you do, you might not be able to stop, and you have to find some way to get over Taron and the memories of your time together once and for all. All you can do is hope that someday, somehow; the pain will become less, the separation will become easier and the dream will slowly fade away...