Chapter 3: What My Soul Does When I Am Asleep by Stephen Simpson
Why I have been waiting to see him all day, I do not know.
Although I recognise everything about him, I feel unsure as
he walks toward me. It is strange how I recognise him, but I cannot remember where
I know him from. I also feel a strange need to come back here every night, and
to never let him go.
He stops in front of me and says, “Hey.” His hand reaches out to me, and the touch of his fingers against mine sends a thrill through me that reminds me of winter’s first snowfall, of the safety of home, and sunbeams dancing between the branches of a tree. I know his name as well. Barclay. Barclay Thomson. Gently he pulls on my hand and urges me to sit next to him on the grass. The grass feels a little damp under me as I settle myself down onto it and cross my legs in front of me. His shoulder brushes against mine as he looks at me sideways and smiles. “Tell me about your day.”
Even though he is smiling, he has a worried look in his
eyes, and I am a little afraid to know the reason for his fear. It is as if I
know what it is, but also as if I have somehow blocked it from my memory.
I must have shown these thoughts on my face because his brow
furrows as he squeezes my hand. ‘What’s the matter?’
“I
don’t really know. I feel afraid. As if there is something waiting for me just
around the next words. I know it seems strange. It is as if I know this is only
a dream, but yet it feels so real. You know how they say that whatever happens
to you in your dreams cannot kill you, but I have this feeling it actually could.”
I glance across my shoulder nervously. There is a slight hill behind us without
any dark shadows or anything threatening. All the colours around me are bright
and vivid, so how can anything evil be lurking in this field? Yet it feels as
if someone or something is watching me.
“It’s
okay. Don’t worry,” he assures me. “We’ll be okay, for now.” He nudges me. “I
enjoyed the party last night. You?”
I look back at him. “Where did you go? One moment you were there
and then you were just gone.”
“Had
to go. My body needed to use the bathroom.”
I chuckle. “Very inconvenient.”
“Very,”
he whispers as he leans closer to me. His hand comes across his body and
settles on my shoulder. I glance at his lips and a small smile plucks at the
corners of his mouth.
My upper body shifts slowly.
He keeps his lips hovering above mine for a second, two seconds,
three.
I look into his clear, light blue eyes. An eerie eye colour,
which makes his eyes always appear more open and wider than normal. I would spend
a year’s allowance on contact lenses to have eyes like his.
Our eyes connect and then as he looks into my eyes, as his
lips settle onto mine, a feeling of inexpressible happiness and warmth rushes
through me, and my hand reaches up to him. My hand folds around the nape of his
neck as he intensifies the pressure of his lips against mine. I want to part my
lips under his, but shyness stops me. I am too scared to intensify the sensation
I am feeling. I am too shy to make the first move.
He lifts his lips from mine but remains close to me. The tip
of his nose nudges against my cheek. “Good night.”
I try to pull away from him even further. “What do you
mean?” I murmur.
“I
did not get the chance to say good night last night.” His lips smile, and then
he kisses me again as I am about to smile. My lips are already a little parted.
He is all I think about when I am asleep. I spend my nights
with him, even if during the day I forget I even know him. We are two souls
connected in such a way that being with each other is like feeling safe and
protected. I feel as if being with him, I can be me and still be loved unconditionally.
I wonder why love is only equated to hard work and what effort a person is
supposed to put into it to make it last. When two souls come together, then surely
love should be easy and uncomplicated.
My name explodes from his lips. The desperation in his voice
is infectious. Why have I waited so long to feel the softness of his mouth? His
hand slips from my shoulder to my waist and he pulls me closer to him.
My body presses against his. Confidence rushes through me as
I lift myself onto my knees before I lift my one knee across his legs and sit
down on his lap. Our lips never part, not even for a second. I move my hands to
cup his face in my palms, as his face is lifted up to mine.
At fifteen, my experience is limited, but there is no time
to see beyond this moment. Everything about him bewitches me. When I open my
eyes, all I can see is his beautiful face beneath mine.
He opens his eyes slowly to reveal a sad gaze. “Gaby, where
do you spend your days?”
Tracing my finger along the side of his face, I say, “I wish I could find you.”
All work created and posted on this blog is the intellectual property of Stephen Simpson.
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