I felt it falling apart.

Slowly but surely.

I never cried so hard in my life.

Ripping off a bandage doesn't hurt as much as slowly peeling it off.

Not worth waiting for...

I am not the Dreamer anymore.

I don't know who I am anymore.

I don't know what to dream of anymore.

So...

Goodbye.

It doesn't seem like a name anymore.
Just letters.
Or if you named a pile of dust.
Go back in time, whisper in her ear, "Do it."
She could have done it, if she actually tried.
Wasting her energy.
It doesn't seem like I am looking at a name anymore.
Just staring at a blank page of a history book that used to fascinate you, when you were young.
It doesn't seem like a person anymore, the happiest of drugs is oxygen, can't get enough, can you, darling?

I like to dream sad things sometimes.
I was singing.
He was running.
I was singing.
He was crying.
I was singing.
He was screaming.
I was singing.
"Stop!"
The train was going.
The rain was pouring.
I was singing.
He was running.
The train was going.
I wasn't singing anymore.
He wasn't running anymore.
The train kept going.
The rain kept pouring.
I wasn't singing anymore.

I like to dream happy things, too.
He made the most important promise of his life.
After he left me.
Maybe he just didn't want me to cry.
He wanted me to believe that the aeroplane wouldn't crash, that he wouldn't drop me, names breaking, hearts forgetting.
But I wanted so much to believe.
Then I woke up.

I said one word.
From A to Z.
From Z to A.
Over and over and over again.
Until it didn't seem like a word anymore.
Over and over and over again.

"Why can't you be like her?"

Those words hurt my chest the most.

What will happen when this beautiful fantasy world comes true?
Will I dream of the past, and not the future?
Will I not see the world through babies eyes?

I had a dream he kissed me then dissolved, into the air, I breathed out so sweetly.
I bit his lip and screamed at him, to stay.
I woke up crying.

I do not like this game of hide 'n' seek you are playing, in fact, I hate it.
Where are you hiding?
Why not with me?
I can't find you...why can't I find you?
Why won't you appear, with me?
I hate this game of hide 'n' seek you are playing.

I hope he wears blue.

He flies her like a kite, up, in the sky...

She hates the wind.
The wind moves the clouds fast, away from her.
She hates the wind.

She loves the rain.
The rain makes her wet, and happy, the rain makes music.
She loves the rain.

She does not know what to think of the sun.
How does this gigantic fire ball, make so many people happy?
She does not know what to think of the sun.

She likes the clouds.
They are her home, they are her sanctuary.
She likes the clouds.

She is fond of the mist.
It covers her vision, and also her chances of seeing what she does not want to see.
She is fond of the mist.

She sighs. It wasn't what she thought it would be.
If only he could fulfill what she really wishes.
She sighs again. Her radiance burns through her eyelids, she hates it.
She sighs again.
If only she could tell everyone and everything what she wants and what she sees and how it truly affects her.
How the sunset is not only just the sun going down, but it is the ending of another day, that nothing has happened.
Please, please, please, please, just be smart for once, please.
She feels like crying.
But why can't she tell him?
Someday she will, though, but will her heart be shattered like glass?
Only time can tell.
Why does this horrible world her enemies came up with delight her so?
"When?" Is her only question.
Yes, when exactly will this invisible love flutter?
She sighs.

The gusts of wind are her.
They blow her down from the clouds, from the trees, from her fantasies.
They blow her coat off, her warmth off, her melancholy off, the rain off her lips.
The grey mists fill her lungs again, the twigs turn into arms and hold onto her, tight, and comforting, the fence closes in.
The mud stains her clothes, and she smiles.
She smiles, for the first time, she actually smiles, and laughs, of joy, and soon, falls into the cold water under her feet.


Dear Dreamer,
I promise I won't, ever, for I know how it feels.
I promise I won't write it down, I won't mention it, I will just sit in your chair, Dreamer, I promise I won't be jealous anymore, for I know, you do truly love me more then the red balloon, and I hope that wasn't a lie, but I think I know you well enough that you wouldn't lie about those kind of things.
Your dreams fascinate me, I wonder where they come from, I wonder what you are looking at right now, what you are feeling, what you are hearing, what you are dreaming, you told me to remember that, no matter what, you are always dreaming about me, though, I find that hard to believe...

Even though I am also dreaming about you,
The Promiser.

She tries to hold on, to this ribbon that slowly turns into a thread, why is no one helping her?
All she can do is watch, but nothing happens, her wishes, don't come true, the stars lie to her, who else has lied to her?
No one is going to be there when the thread disintegrates, when her dreams fall in the ocean, float into the sky, along with her red balloon.
At least she thinks there will be no one there.

His turn to dream now, her turn to promise, or do they just share the jobs?

It's dark, but for some reason I can see everything, things I used to not be able to see, I tell myself that I could get hurt, very much, and severely, but I am calm, the cement floor is cold on my back, and it hurts, I tell myself to stand up, for it won't hurt as much, but I feel comforted, like a nice, warm bed. I fall asleep, but I don't want to, I'm not even tired.

I wake up, to cold drops of rain coming down from the ceiling...I hear voices, and soon I see a light shine through a door, I get up as fast as I can, all the blood rushes down from my head and I feel dizzy. I sense a new presence, and soon I hear crying, no, not crying, screaming, and banging on the walls, it's so loud, his pain is so loud.

The screaming and crying went on for hours and hours as I lay on the cement floor, it dies down and I say, "Please, please stop." I noticed I am also crying. "I can't!" he screams and cries even more.

Why am I holding my own hand?

Why am I so distracted?
I saw their souls meet, my soul just came out and traveled though wries and wires and more and maybe hit a tree or a building or something, but I hope it hit his heart.

Why does she cry?
Why does she want it so bad?
Why does she not want to go to school?
Why does she rather stay in bed, dreaming?
Why does she cry?

Dear Promiser,
Promise me this one thing that I need, you burned all evidence of The Girl, you said that you need to go on with your life, as so does she, but promise me something, love, if I hurt you like she hurt you, don't burn the evidence of me, make sure I am part of your life forever. I know, I could never make you as happy as she did (don't deny it) just please, please don't forget about me, for I will do the same for you, dear Promiser, you will always be a part of my life, and my heart.

-The Dreamer

Now look who's turn it is to promise.

The Gloaming

Pacifying. Blank. Falling. Quick.

It is wet, but dry on the field. It is scary, but comforting on the field. She lsays there in the field, sleeping, dreaming, as usual. He lays down beside her and says, “Who are you?”

Yes, who exactly is this quiet, oblivious girl? She is The Dreamer. She is that girl you refuse to notice, the one that’s never quite there, the one who tries to get down from the clouds, the one who’s window has curtains, the one who slams the door in your face, the one who stays up until 3 a.m. watching white noise. (He kicks the ball into her stomach.)

“Who are you?” she asks back, rudeness burning in her voice. “The Promiser” he replies, happiness in his voice. “Then promise me something,” she begged, “don’t leave.” She sounded like she was reading from a script. Pacifying.
***
Her body is happy, her mind in fireworks. He pops up in her head in bright, loud flashes. She distracts herself. In the closet there is darkness. Where there’s darkness, there are dreams. In the cupboard there is dust. Jealousy sparks her. She is jealous of dust. The dust of the few pills The Girl didn’t take. The Dreamer wishes she was those pills. She smells as sweet as the sea. Blank.
***
In the hospital, on a stretcher, in the elevator. Going down. The music from the radio drains her thoughts. Going down. Her hand sweats, She doesn’t want to let go of the red balloon. Her hate her...? Going down. The Girl stares at the back of her head, intimidating. Going down. The plane crashes. Going down. The car loses control. Bur were you really in control of it? Going down. The insects go in her ears, the butterfly into her stomach, the wasp into her heart. Going down. Falling.
***
She walks slowly. It is so huge. She is scared. It’s too dangerous. Things hurrying around her. One is going to hit her and her red balloon she is holding onto, but she can’t see them. Her feet are wet and cold. Ther rest of her body is wet and warm. It is terrible. She can’t breathe. It’s too dark and musty...there he is! He’s scared of flying, but he’s here! The Promiser! Quick.
***
La la la. We’re buying a balloon. I want a red one. La la la.

I had a dream 7 years was too long.
Was it just a dream?
7 months feels like too long.
Which one won't be able to handle it anymore?

She thinks it will be him, does that mean what he says is true? Does he really love her more? No.

I had a dream it was too soon.
Or was it really too soon?
I didn't really know what hit me, and I couldn't dream up the rest, it was just so right.

She didn't know what hit her, why?

I love you.

I had a dream it was over for me.
I talked to the Girl and told her I was sorry for hating her and that I shouldn't have felt that way.
Would I really do that?
I was him, I couldn't stop myself from saying no, and I saw the sparkle leave my eyes, I didn't want to see anymore.
Am I idiotic?
What if that happens?
If I couldn't stand looking at myself, empty, how could he ever?
Does he really love me as much as I think he does?

She is The Dreamer, she flies on her plane, away from reality, towards him.