, ,

I am participating in the 30 Days Letter Challenge where you write one letter each day. The 5th in the list is a letter to ‘Your Dreams’. Like I said in my intro post, I am returning to fiction for this one.


Dear Dreams,

You and I were a team from as far back as I can remember. We met each other every day, as much as we could, not in the darkness of the night, but in the bright light of day.

Together we sat, and while I gazed into the unknown, you lovingly recreated the known for me.

True, it never got me to complete homework on time, left me standing with the comb halfway through my tangle-ridden hair, let the food go cold on my plate, and much more.

It also got me smacks, exasperated looks  and unflattering nicknames.

Did I mind? Perhaps. But then, I could always return to you later when you would once again show me more of the beautiful and the enchanting. Nothing was real. Yet, what did I care so long as it made me happy?

There was something that I minded though. Someone or other would come along at regular intervals, and with no provocation at all, chop off huge chunks of you.

It was you they maimed, but it was me that felt the pain.

What good were the pieces of you to anyone? They would not get them any riches, talents or fame, always the things in demand, but was only about existence and sustenance, mine. Your bits were useless for anyone other than me. Still they chopped and carted away pieces of you, reddening the earth, the sky and my eyes.

Nothing could put you down for long. Sooner or later, you rose from where you had fallen and were back with me. I nursed you till you healed and once again we were weaving colorful weaves together, with whatever was left of you.

After each incident, there was less and less of you, till there was only a skeleton of you left, the final bit, ethereal, that I clung to. It was fine, though. That was the only bit I needed.

Then one day, along came a Dream Catcher who caught you in a net and took that last bit of you away from me.

With that final bit of you gone, and nothing at all left, I have forgotten what it was like being with you creating, recreating, decorating, embellishing the known that was never to be, and the unknown that was to be, sometime, somewhere.

You are no longer around to paint it all for me in vibrant colors, a world that awaits me on the other side.

So now I wait patiently, for the veil to lift, and take that lonely walk.


The Dreamless Dreamer.


Some posts on dreams of the other kind (those you see while sleeping):

On a Tuesday Afternoon

Dreams I dream