When I Dreamt About You, I Was Kinda Smiling

Years have passed before I dreamt about her. For many of those years, I was even scared of dreaming at night. I called her to ask her to meet for the first time in 15 years. And so, this morning I got dressed in a nice new summer dress. It was navy with little red, white, and light blue flowers. To fit with it, I decided to wear red leather shoes, complemented with a nice red leather bag. I slowly walked through the narrow streets as the sun was slowly cooking my face through the branches of young trees. I felt wonderful this morning, unlike many other mornings 15 years ago. I felt happy and knew where I was going in life. I was going to a cafe, which sold delicious pastries.

The dark green door with a stained-glass window, which had a flower pattern on it, was closed to not let the humid and hot summer air fill up the coffee shop. As I entered, the little bells on the door rang, and once again I wondered how they work, but once again I was too lazy to look up and see. I looked around, I had arrived first, so I decided to choose a table. The one in the corner near the window looked perfect, with the perfect amount of light and of privacy, as much as it was possible in a public place. Everything was made of dark wood, except for the seats which had dark green cushions. I sat and as I waited for her to come, I ordered a cup of tea. The tea here was great, of high quality.

As ten minutes passed, I heard the bells once again and raised my eyes from my now empty cup. I immediately recognized her dark hair and her dark eyes, which reminded me of little pieces of hot charcoal and reflected the warmth of her personality. She wore a light green skirt, a beige t-shirt, and a light green cardigan. She really looked like she belonged in this coffee shop, with her green and beige outfit perfectly fitting with the dark green and brown interior. The scene was quite poetic in its beauty, a beauty which only a poem could describe considering the incredible feeling of peace and harmony the atmosphere of the coffee shop and its clients gave off. I waved at her, she saw me and waved back while the clicking of her shoes on the wooden floor grew louder and louder. This woman was my best and only friend in high school, she saved me, in a way, back then.

"Hi Wilma! You look wonderful! How have you been?" I said with great enthusiasm, I was indescribably happy to see her and indescribably grateful to her for what she has done for me years ago. Because of the gratefulness that I felt, I wasn’t sure if I had really missed her all those years, or if I simply wanted to get the opportunity to thank her again and talk to the person I looked up to so much. But it didn’t matter, because anyway, I was happy. She also looked glad to see me. I felt relieved. In high school, I was worried that she’d see me as a burden. Now, I felt just as worried. Worried that suddenly seeing me would be a pain for her.

- I was so happy to receive your call last week! With my daughter entering high school, I thought about you a lot, said Wilma.

- You have a daughter? It feels so unreal that we’re adults now and you, you even have a child!

- Yes, I do, she said laughing. How about you?

- Well, I live alone, and I started writing books, I really hope to get published.

- Oh that’s great! You always were very imaginative, I’m sure you’ll be successful.

- Thanks for the kind words!

- By the way, do you still have those strange dreams?

- I do have some strange dreams, but not like before. Actually, I called you because I dreamt of you.

- Was it something scary or sad?

- No, it was something happy, it made me smile when I woke up. We were talking in my dream, that’s why I decided that it was probably time for us to talk in real life again.

We spent at least two hours talking about our current lives, and slowly, we started going back in time. We talked about the beginning of our careers, then about our university years, and then about high school. Only that last topic wasn’t about the new things we lived when we drifted apart, it was about our common memories. Generally bad memories, at least for me. Now that I think of it, it wasn't that bad, it was simply sad. For some reason, I felt nostalgic about the pain I felt back then. I surely didn’t want to feel it again, but it was probably the most frantic moment of my life. And nothing makes one feel more alive than agitation, fear, and death.

When I came back home that evening, I couldn’t stop thinking about death, and how lucky I was to still be alive. When one observes the contrast between life and death, one can feel many things. Fear of the unknown is probably the obvious thought that comes to mind. For some people, it can mean the end of suffering, though I feel like the harder one must work to survive, the more one cherishes their life, the less they see death as a relief because it is what they’re trying to escape. To think about the contrast between life and death can also make you feel lucky, or guilty. I personally felt both. I cherished my life and truly wished to enjoy it. It’s true that some things are hard to live through, but I feel that all hardships can be overcome. Nothing can be worse for me than what I lived through in my teenage years. But despite the feeling of luck, I have a feeling of guilt, because some people die. Die in terrible circumstances. Most of the time, I can’t help it. And if I can help some people survive, by doing charity for example, I still have to choose whom will I help to live, and whom I will leave to die.

I have witnessed death, 15 years ago. And as I fell asleep, I dreamt of it, witnessing it all over again and asking myself if it was my fault. To this day, I still don’t know.