You are, by far, the only person to make me cry (more than once) who isn’t my relative and you don’t even know it. This is the second time that I woke up from a dream with you in it and I was crying. And of all places to dream, it had to happen when I fell asleep in the bus on my way to school! It went like this.
The scene looked like it was in a hospital room but the bed was made up. No equipment, the curtains open. I was sitting, waiting. And then you came in with a young toddler boy. You led him to me. I introduced myself as his aunt as I bent down to lift the little boy to the bed and gave him a hug. It felt like the best and the worst feeling in the world and the word aunt left a bitter taste to the tongue – like it did not seem right. I hugged the little boy tighter like it was the last chance I got to hold him before letting him down and go back to you, his dad. You came closer and we sat on the bed. You held my hand. I asked you, “Is she treating him well?” You nod and say yes. I told you, “We can’t keep doing this.” You nod.
And that’s when I woke up with tears in my eyes and I had to discreetly pull out my hanky and pat my tears away like something just got in my eye. I told some girlfriends of mine about this because I could not get over that melancholic feeling after having the dream. They told me I wasn’t over you. Well, technically, there is nothing to get over with since there was never anything to begin with. I didn’t think so (the not over you part).
I already told myself that I would let you go just like the last puppy I had to give away and both made me cry. But unlike the real puppy I gave away who never came back (and doesn’t even know me anymore), you did. You find ways to. May it be in real life or in my dreams, you’re there even if I don’t want to know or feel you’re there. You manage to weasel your way into the conversations I have – even when you aren’t physically present. If you are, we talk about you most of the time and it’s always fine by me.
There were times when I should have been envious but I never was. I was genuinely happy when you were and I knew that was what I wanted for you. Whenever you were excited and told me about it, I would genuinely get excited, too. It felt weird but I did. Maybe that was the only way I could show how much I cared. That I could never give more than what a friend does. Because that’s what we are. That is what I have to convince myself that we will ever be. Maybe that is what hurts me the most, having to temper the way you feel. Having to know that there is a limit in giving. I’m waiting for that day when you find that person who can make you happy, more than how a friend should. Then, I would not blame circumstance anymore.
Maybe in an alternate universe, fate would be kinder to both of us. Either by not letting us ever cross paths or by allowing you the circumstance this world prohibits you – that way, you would never have gotten your heart broken nor will I.