Ok, this one's from a dream I just woke up from. Talk about intense; just as I was feeling restless from a lack of intensity this afternoon.

But anyway. It was a very powerful, very vivid dream and I hope I can convey it right. Supposed to be doing Trigo now since I gave up on Plane Geom tys and haven't touched anything else at all this weekeed, but I need to clear my head of this dream and its feelings, so I'm gonna write it down here.

Sorry I'm flooding my blog again.

On the other hand, I thought this dream was deeply insightful, and I finally admitted/realised a lot of things on my own part, thanks to it. So yeah, enjoy?

Of course I don't have perfect memory, so this recount ain't 100% complete. And now that I'm awake to think about it I can add in some elaboration into emotions I couldn't even name then, so yup. Anyway dreams don't always have to make sense, so at the points where it sounds abrupt, do pardon me.

Haha okay this post suffered a delay of like 3 hours because I went to call Charlotte instead of typing it first, yup :-) [& actually, we're still on the phone...]

But you don't mind of course(:

© all rights reserved, babes.

I am upset, I am upset and I feel like I am going to crush something, anything - or anyone. But more than that, I am hurt, and I am losing control. Standing on the tarmac wavering between anger and sadness and all the things in between. Chest heaving, knees trembling, eyes all ice and cheeks burning so badly I think I will surely explode with all these emotions. What did I do what did I do is the question buzzing around, but they're staring accusations at me with hard eyes, leaving me with nothing to feel but I tried, I really really tried my best. What do you want from me?

Then she appears, hair in its usual careless mess and teeshirt neatly tucked, just like always. Always there for me, aren't you, I think. Sometimes I wonder how she knows when I need her most. And she stands there and she goes, "Carolyn..." while blinking in that sleepy-eyed fashion, all alive with knowing and comfort.

I look at her and remember the times when we laughed, joking about the way I always know that she's more stressed than she lets on. And she looks at me and we both know that I'm as close to breaking down as I've ever come.

So I do the only thing I can think of now: I turn towards the red track that stretches out in front of me. Something in the way she stands there tugs at my mind, and I look back at her, almost begging: "You, run with me."

It's not a question, but some kind of plea and for a heartbeat I am so sure she will refuse. But then I see that she never turns me down when I'm at my worst. Nevertheless, I am grateful when she meets my gaze with her own solid one, and says, "Okay."

We set off together without hesitation, feet pounding on the ground, amid all the leaves and shadows from the foliage. How many times have you let me struggle quietly in your presence, to sort it in my mind, to sift through all the feelings that I put myself through? The ground rises sharply above us before it bends to our left, and we take it tough, as tough as we always do. I watch her as we make it up the slope, noting the familiar expression forming. I smile to myself; that's her I'm-taking-it-so-bring-it-on face.

We make round after round, me straining myself purposefully so I can't think. My feet ache as we go up the slope again. Perched on the wall beside us is a group of boys decked out in flaming orange tracksuits surveying our passage, and as we complete another lap they join us, whooping as they delight in their freedom.   Along the way my feet blister, so I kick off the shoes and strip off the socks. I am free.

We run like that for a long time, pushing ourselves harder and harder, as we race faster and faster onward. Headlong we go, through the steady afternoon light. Secretly I am gleeful, because she is the only one who understands my intensity, and the only one who shares it. I'm so glad I met you.

My legs are burning now, as if the pain in my chest has eased by trickling to all my muscles. I risk a glance upward but they've disappeared, so I feel a little safer.

"Man, I'm hungry," she says out of nowhere, breaking the monopoly of our synchronised breaths.

I smirk but am struck by a little twinge of fear that she's going to vanish, too. So I manage to pant out between ragged gasps of air, "One lap, just one more, and we can go."

She puts her head to the side for a while, think, then nod. "One. Let's do this."

Somehow, it's always the final circuit that's the hardest. It's a struggle up the slope and a fight to keep on my feet. We've been running so long I don't really remember anything anymore, just the harsh glare of the sun plus the rhythm of our rounds. "Come on, come on!" she yells, swiping at her forehead with her sweatband. I push myself to keep going.

Sometimes she's the only reason I don't give in; we're fighters, and so proud of it. Plus, I do owe you my life.

We're on home stretch now, at last. I enquire, "Endpoint?"

She hesitates. "Um, the first lamppost?"

"Nah, too near."

"The last, then."

"Just what I was thinking!" I grin.

Without prompting we both break out into a mad sprint. Halfway there we are abruptly shoved to one side as the runners appear and begin to elbow us out of the way. They snigger as we're slowly pushed aside.

"Oi!" she shouts. "So rude!"

She signals and we begin to lengthen our strides. We soon overtake them; we're too focussed to exchange a smile, though I sense that both of us inwardly beam with something like triumph.

What I am certain is that we are laughing wildly as we hit the final few metres, each straining to beat the other. Every nerve is alight with adrenaline as we surge forward and cross that line, but I don't know who wins as somehow we collide and get all tangled with each other.

We've tumbled onto the tarmac now, dazed from the fall and quiet from the shock of it. The orange jumpsuits have passed us and faded into the distance already. But we just sit on the hot grass beside the pavement, rubbing our heads and shaking the cramps out of our limbs.

Then we somehow look up at the same time so that our gazes meet. Without knowing how or why I break out into a fit of giggles, which she quickly follows, then both of us are laughing hard, sharing some mysterious amusement neither understands.

Thank you, thank you, I think as I grip the soil tight with trembling fists, clinging to the parched ground like my life depends on it. Thank you for being there when no one else was.

Labels: opr, oth