3/23/08 Dream

This was a real portion of a dream I had last night.  It was really wonderful.

“

Axel stood in the hall of the school, at an intersection between two hallways and a stairwell.  He was dreaming.  The students were all gathered at the school for a dance, some sort of one with a need for costumes.  The halls were not very crowded, but contained small groups that stood throughout.

Axel didn’t stand for long.  He had just appeared.  Immediately he was put into an attitude that was as if he had just been greatly annoyed.  He was walking down the hallway, directly away from the stairs, when he saw a girl.  The costume Axel could later not remember, but she was barefooted.  This girl, on the outside of his dreams, he was trying to lose his feelings for.  She had someone else.  In his dream, in his current mood, he didn’t want to see her.

In his agitation he turned and began to walk away.  As he turned the corner, he heard a call.  The call was from the girl, and he immediately dropped his moods and turned around.  She called again, “Axel, wait!”  He went back through the hall, as she started to come towards him, until they met.  He loved her face; he loved her.  To hear her call his name was not something he was used to at all.

She spoke.  “You know, you remind me of my cousin.”  She said it kindly, with a smile.  It felt to Axel like she was responding to all of his efforts to express himself, all of his efforts which he had put in places he had only hoped that she would see, but had no way to know if she had for sure.  He was never direct with her until one point a few months back, and it felt as if this version of her was sent into his dream to explain, in a tender way, how she felt.

She smiled still as she spoke again, and showed no pity, nor rejection in her face or her voice.  “It’s just,” she held her hands below her chest, and motioned up as if applying a pressure to it.  She spoke still without rejection.  “You make me tweeze.”  It was an explanation.  It was an unusual description; in retrospect, Axel related it to describing a feeling with a word that sounded like a feeling, though the definition was incorrect in all aspects.  He did it once as a child, saying that the bread of a sandwich tasted “numb”.

The girl then backed up and turned away, still smiling.  “Wait, what does that mean?”  She said nothing else.  “What does that mean?”  He pleaded, but got no response.  “What does it mean?”

The dream transitioned to something else, unrelated to the girl.  The next time he thought of her was when he awoke, and he was filled with a warmth from the feeling of having been spoken to by her in such a way.  He thought of it, and melted inside.  He was still trying to move on, but he didn’t fight the warmth she brought at the time, or the happiness.

 ”

Except, you know, I substituted Axel for my name.