O Amor não existe.

Parem de se iludir.

Dreams

I feel an urge to post this as I might not remember it so vividly in the future. This was one of the dreams that had me most impressed since my classical childhood nightmare in which all of my dear relatives had become fiery skeletons with swords and helmets.

I’ll try prose as it feels more immersive for readers. My goal is to – by making people feel as I felt – try and see if I’m being over dramatic when I say I was ridiculously impressed.

“We were staying at a paradise resort in the outskirts of my state. Although seemingly a happy occasion, nothing more than sweeping the dirt under the carpet, had we started this little affair of getting everyone to get used to our condition. We were dating and that was a fact.

Many friends were staying with us in that resort. There were villas for every five people and, divided as such, my family got one just for us.

I obviously couldn’t sleep with him. If I can’t be with him in my own house, where there are walls, imagine deploying such burden on my family’s arms of being with him with nothing but air separating our ‘orgy’ of sleeping (as in shutting our eyes and dreaming) together. Except that I hadn’t told him that so I saw myself in a complicated position. I had brought him to a place where he had nowhere to stay and there was nothing I could do about it.

We sat by the swimming pool thinking about a solution. For some reason we were naked. We don’t have much to hide from one another after all but more than that we were naked to everyone. Stripped of pride, reason and most importantly, ideas.

We talked a little. He was notoriously sad. Some friends were talking nearby. As I saw a female friend passing by, going to her villa, I had the brilliant idea of asking her for sanctuary. I asked my little angel to wait just for a while so that I could sort that out. He confirmed with his head bearing that little sad look that always manages to slash my heart several times in a very gory way.

And then I ran. I was very desperate. She welcomed me into her villa and we talked by the window. She was happy to provide us with a safe place to sleep, outside my family’s globe of purity, and that made me happy. In fact, as I hugged her, I noticed my heart pumped in a way I couldn’t imagine it would.

I then ran back to the swimming pool. I was very happy.

I arrived only to find that he wasn’t where I left him. There was a strange aura in the place. A cold and grey breeze of nothingness. Where is he, I asked another friend. She put her hands together and pointed to the sky. Ascended, I asked myself. In heaven? I was confused only by denial. Where is he, I asked again in a slighly louder tone, getting desperate by the hour.

She pointed forward, behind me, and bursted into tears.

I looked back to see his little nude body, lying on the floor, shrunk as a baby in mother’s womb. I ran towards him and grabbed him crying desperately. No, please. You can’t be gone!!

His skin was cold and as I turned him to me, his face was pale and his lips were purple. I was undoubtedly looking at a corpse of what was once the greatest love of my life.

I asked my friend what happened. She said she didn’t know. He had just started to scream “love, love, love, love, love, love”, calling me, and then he fell.”

And I woke up. I never felt like this before. Like I never want to sleep again.