Tags

, , , , , ,

You hold my hand firmly, dragging me here and there in front of many.

It’s like a declaration.

“She is Mine!”

“Back off!”


 

It’s 0 in the morning. I sleep early tonight, at 9. So it’s just normal for me to be awake around this hour. I sleep enough after 3 hours you see.. Unfortunately I have nothing particular to do, so I force my eyes to sleep again. Then the dream begins, again and again. In the end I dream about something that wake me up. Well, here I am. 2 a.m, and I can’t get back to sleep anymore. In hope that writing it down will lessen the impression from the dream, I open my blog and post it here.


 

I was – we were – in the middle of my friend from university. Most of them are boys and I am closer to boy than girls. It seems that we were having fun after a reunion party. I have no idea why was I the only one that come with a partner, but my partner was you. Yeah, the one who keep haunting me like a ghost. That’s you.

For some reason, you always stick to me rather than blending with others. I talked with my friend, but you act weird and just grabbed my hand, firmly. You pulled me away while I am talking with them, I don’t know why. I was confused trying to explain things to those that I’m forced to left. All of them, each of them just put this understanding smile to show me that they are okay with that. What the hell is wrong with you?

The scene change, you were no longer dragging me around here and there. You were talking with my friend about something, might be about a bag or whatever. I was coming toward you, not necessarily trying to go to your side. It just happened that a friend that I’m close to during my study was standing around you. It amaze me how you realize that I was there and just leave the conversation to drag me around again. Almost all of my friend were looking, I was quite bothered by that. PDA (Public Display of Affection) is not my thing, more like I hate that. You knew that, but you did it anyway. There’s only one explanation, it’s intentional. It’s a declaration toward all of my friend that I am yours. Is that really necessary?

The friend that you left to drag me was shouting at you, asking for a confirmation about something. No, not about your relationship with me. It’s something else, I don’t remember. But you don’t care, almost like a deaf, you don’t even realize someone is shouting at you. So in your place, I look at that friend. With an awkward smile I said to him: “I’m sorry.. Later, okay?”. Again, like others, this friend gave me a bitter smile.


Hey, hey? What’s wrong?

I asked that question so many times but failed to get an answer. My hand almost got numb because of all that dragging and I really hoped you would let my hand go soon. Well, you did. After we reach a room where there are just the two of us, you finally let my hand go. Thank god you were not attacking me. You just stared at me and mumbled words that I couldn’t hear.

You did let my hand go, but letting me out of the room is another story.
You won’t let me take a step outside.
….did I just become your prisoner?

Finally, you started to talk. You handed me a paper with a prayer written on it. Ah, that’s it. You wanted me to go say this prayer. I don’t hate a prayer, but the content of this one is kinda.. It’s something about asking God to let me become your wife. If I am not the destined one, then make me one. If I am the one, then make me yours faster. A forceful prayer if I could say.. I was kinda confused but not really refusing. Bad news for you, I wake up from that dream. Right before I started to read that prayer, I wake up.

Ah. It’s 2 a.m. Great I can’t sleep anymore.


I sit down and let out a long sigh. What the hell is wrong with me? What kind of dream is that? What kind of attack is this? Why are you never fail to show up whenever I almost forget about you?

Some says that dream are unconscious desire. Well, tell me about that. I’m more like refusing the idea of having him as my husband. I’m more likely getting married to someone introduced by my parents rather than getting married to you. So somebody, tell me, what kind of dream is that?

Is the red thread of fate that link us together still not broken??

I can still feel his hand on my hand. I’m doomed.


I looked at my laptop and decided to write it down. Rather than letting the vivid feeling overflowing in me, I am better off writing it down. It keeps me from being emotional. But, what a stupid dream it was. Right?

Love,

Fitri

 

 

 

Advertisements