WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE

Does it happen to you too? Since you were a little girl, 5ish and onward, you started dreaming. And you kept on dreaming and you still are dreaming and wishing. You want it so much. You start believing in it, living for it, breathing it, thinking only about it, it is almost real, you close your eyes, you can see it. You perfected it through the years, you thought of every detail over and over again, you can touch it now. You want it so bad and it just happens. Something clicks in your head, almost or it did make you cry. Because that is it, your brain-the only one that was reminding you of it not being real, made a decision that you are going to go out there, do what is needed to be it. And before you know it, you've got a plane ticket to a strange country, unspecific, the place doesn't matter, your promise land. Promising of your all dreams coming true. Nightmares are dreams too, but what the hack, you'll pass through them like it's nothing because the positive you will destroy them with a rule of a thumb. You print out the ticket, holding onto something now, feeling you don't deserve it, knowing you'd make it your life to make amends. Not because you feel like you owe it to someone, but yourself, because you want to, because that is the only way you'll ever be happy, making another happy.

Or is just me?

Let me start over.

I talk aloud, I write gratitude list and I ask life for things. When I kindly asked life to give me silver linings and all, I asked not to give me love for I wouldn't know what to do with it, what to make of it. My head was bowed, eyes glued to the floor. I didn't dare look up for I'd be looking for signs, misread them, fall for sugar coated as it is what I needed. Walked like that for days, to work, at work, from work.

Then he feel out of the sky, fell under my feet with his life falling apart before me. Didn't think much of him, except pity asking his friend to take him home and cut the embarrassment short, there was no cure for the hangover any longer. Little did I know that the man on the floor promised people around him, I'd be his girlfriend.

Since that day, he lived up to all his promises. He lived up to all that a little girl in me dreamed of and more. They say you get what you deserve, and being the luckiest girl in the world to be loved by such a wonderful man, maybe I wasn't as bad as I thought. Never mind me who I was, now all that seems like a beautiful ruin. He makes me the happiest, better person, and all I want now is to be the best for him.

Kissed him for the first time. I felt it, he felt it. And before I knew what hit me and how hard I was coming out of  'exit only' airport door, with my whole being trembling with Joy. Spending first five days touching, kissing, feeling every inch of his body and the last five days, tracing those same inches to remember the texture. Remember the curve of his spine, every line of every tattoo, even of the one he doesn't like anymore, the pink of the skin where he scared, remember the rhythm of his heart, his facial expressions when he was talking to others, but not to me. Then, I'll only see my reflection swimming in his eyes, disappearing and appearing more focused with gaze by each blink. I'd be OK with drowning too. Remembering his eyes opening in the morning and under the flow of the shower. The length of his eyelashes. The hard of his heel, the hardness of his muscles. Watching him look at himself in the mirror. When pointing to something he wanted me to see, I'll stare at his hand. Those ten days might have been too honest for words.

While now it seems I missed him forever. Not for long though. In couple of weeks I'll be in his arms again. Forever is the plan. I am ready to miss mum and dad for this, my friends and the dog, my books. I am ready to start a new life that is build for two. Now I want to live in this body of mine that he kisses, and holds the hand when walking and hugs when sleeping, wherever the body is. I'll fix the body under his and go to sleep in love.