After all, we are in love

   The first thing I did, was giving him the biggest hug I could. It was amazing how I could feel his sweater against my face, how I could feel his warmth through the fabric and hear his heart beating beneath it. It was so real I cried, both in the dream and outside of it. I don’t remember how long we stood there, but I do remember I started seeing him in other places in my dreams, just running into him casually while he was saying something nice about me or about what he felt for me. I was over the moon.

 Actually, the full moon loomed above us for most of the dream; it was quite a beautiful sight. It was also nice to be able to touch his hand and hold it out in the open, in front of all the people in campus. Or at least I think it was a campus, it didn’t look anything like the college I had been to years before. It was bigger and with more faces and nice walkways lined with trees. And we would hold hands and just talk about movies and laugh about silly gossips that we had heard about people we knew.

 I have to say that, even then, I knew he wasn’t real. I knew that I was dreaming but it all felt so real that I didn’t mind. I knew what my real life was like and I wanted to have something different for a change and it didn’t mattered if it could only be in a dream. That’s why I tried to remember every single thing, repeating in my head as I went through it, because I wanted to remember every single part of that beautiful dream. I want to memorize his face, because somehow he was more than real to me.

 We even made love and he whispered in my ear how much he wanted to make me feel pleasure. I know, maybe that’s too graphic for some or to little information for others, but I have to say that also felt amazing. I could almost say that I was moaning loudly in my room, in bed, while we were having sex in the dream. We kissed a lot and he really seemed to care for me while we were together. I think that’s what everyone one’s in a partner, someone that really cares for you and who’s not there just to be there.

 Afterwards, we lay there talking a bit. We were tired and sweaty, but we couldn’t prevent our faces from grinning and smiling. We were too happy not to express it with our souls. I remember touching his face, feeling his stubble. He kissed my hand and then hugged me and I felt I could drown in his smell. I still have in my head, and I hope it never goes away. He kissed me like no one has kissed me before and, I have to admit, that maybe no one will ever kiss like that. After all, I lived that vivid dream in a moment but that’s all it was, it was just a dream, as unique as it was.

 When I woke up, I felt really good. I was smiling and I didn’t feel tired or worn down. It was quite the opposite and it has to be said that’s not very common. I usually feel I have just arrived from running a marathon. But not that time. I knew the alarm would go off in any minute, but that wasn’t important. My brain and even my body were still with him, feeling his body against mine and every single feeling he felt towards me rushing between both our beings. No idea if that makes sense at all.

 As I was in the shower and putting on my clothes, I thought of everything I had dreamt of. Some of it was already gone, something that was bound to happen. But most of it was there, for me to think about it over and over again. As I prepared to leave home for work, I realized how silly I would sound to anyone if I told them I had fallen in love with an imaginary person, with someone that only existed in my dreams. They would think that I was going insane or something worse.

 Then again, maybe I am. Maybe it is insane to think that a person that you own mind created is simply not healthy. Even I can say that it sounds crazy but I cannot stop thinking about him and about how he made me feel. In the bus, standing up facing the window and looking at cars and buildings pass, I realize that I don’t really care about what people think or not. He made me happy and it doesn’t matter where it happened or if he was just my mind creating him to make me feel less lonely.

 I couldn’t afford not to care, not to recognize he had been there. After all, I actually thought, for a moment, that maybe my head had not created everything about him. Maybe humans are connected in ways we do not yet understand and we were connected during that time. Maybe he exists, somewhere, and maybe he’s also asking the universe what this all means. I know how all of this sounds but sometimes you just have to believe in something to keep going, in order not to crumble and just give up.

 And I have to believe the love of my life is out there somewhere and that he’s thinking of me too. I would love to know if the face I saw in my dream is the same as the one in reality, but he will surely be thinking the same thing. I’ve found myself hoping he’s not very disappointed, because I’m not exactly a top model or anything like that. But maybe worrying about such a thing is just stupid, because he probably worries too about what he looks like. If he just knew I would love give him a hug and just feel him close to me, maybe that would make his worries disappear.

 Meanwhile, real life is going on as usual. I go to work and I go back home, I sometimes cook and write and do things to pass the time. But every now and then I find myself thinking about him. However, after a while, I just think about how lonely I feel and how nice it would be to have someone close to tell him all my worries and my problems and to laugh and be idiots at the same time. I sometimes think about that and it makes me sad because and over thirty and that hasn’t happened yet.

 I’m the first one to say age doesn’t mean shit but the older you are whenever you finally get to meet that wonderful person, the less time you will have with them. And that scares me a lot, because I want more than a few good years with someone. Shit! After so many years of avoiding any kind of emotional attachment to others, I find myself in a position in which I would be ecstatic if I could feel something for someone else. It would be hard and strange and new, but it could be worth the shot.

 But life doesn’t work by wishing, or I would have met him several years ago, when I was more of an innocent kid that ever before or after. I was someone else and that guy really believed in possibilities. Me, not so much. I know that the dream is just a dream and that, even if there’s a possibility he could be real, that doesn’t mean everything would just work according to my imagination or some kind of plan. You don’t plan life because she will never let you. She’s tougher than that, always.

 Anyways, I want to keep dreaming about him. He made me happy, he made me smile. No one achieved that in a while and I want that here, with me. I know how it sounds and how it looks, but I’m the kind of tired that has to use his imagination to go forward. Reality is not the kindest to me, although it could always be worse. That’s why I dream of him, because even if things really go south, I would have someone nearby to really live with, in every single of the word. And that word means hell of a lot.

 My only hope now is that, somehow, I can see him again in my dreams. I feel like I’ve done that before so, maybe, it could happen again. Maybe this time we could go out dancing or singing before going to his place and have sex. Because that’s something I’m not willing to give up.

 I go to bed tonight thinking… No, I go to bed wishing I will see him again. And then I shed a tear and realize how silly, childish and stupid this is. But I don’t have anything else to hold on to. Real or not, I really need him right now and I just know he will come. After all, we are in love.

Ode to Pamela

   Plants are not fun, or that’s what most people think about them. They just think flowers are nice because of the colors but that’s it, they don’t see anything beyond it. Patricia did. She had always seen something in the botanical world that had attracted her. Maybe it was because those creatures didn’t have a voice, they weren’t able to scream and say what they felt or what they wanted. Mysteries wrapped them and made them something that was so near but also very far.

 So Patricia studied botany for years and she travelled the world getting masters degrees and doctorates, studying with the greatest scientific minds in order to learn more and more about her favorite living things. And then, it dawned on her, that she couldn’t just investigate and look at the plants from afar. She really needed to spend time in the field, discovering new types of plants and designing ways to better protect the one that people knew about. She thought about this day and night, for a long time.

 That was, until she met the person that could help her achieve what she wanted. Her name was Hayley and she also had a special love for plants. They met in a conference about roses and other flowers and were surprised how much the other one knew about those creatures. They even had fun quizzing each other about their favorite species and telling very interesting tales about the discovery of some plant or flower. They enjoyed the conference more than anyone else that year.

 They promised to be in touch and it was very soon after that when Hayley invited Patricia to a trip to the Philippines. Apparently, a team of many scientists would visit one of the country’s most remote islands, one were many people said an incredible number of new species of animals and plants could live. The island was relatively small and was protected by the government because it was one of the many islands forming a very large protected area. But this was the first time they would allow people to go in.

 Patricia had her doubts. If she had to be honest with herself, she wasn’t the kind of person to love dirt and hot temperatures. She didn’t even like taking transportation in order to go anywhere. She got annoyed in taxis, as well as in planes or boats. It wasn’t only that she got dizzy; it was also that she disliked having to interact with people that she didn’t particularly care about. Hayley had been a real exception and she finally decided to go only because she thought having Hayley around would be a good thing if she felt she couldn’t stand anything anymore.

 Before departing for the Philippines, both women met and had a blast together. Not only they enjoyed discussing plants again, they also went shopping for appropriate clothes for the trip and even had time to eat, drink and watch a movie together. They really got along very well. The only difference between them was that Hayley loved people and was, apparently, a big partier. She would sometimes talk about it but, as she soon learned, Patricia was not of her same perception so she limited those subjects.

 The day before departing Hayley promised Patricia that she would take care of her and that if she had any problems with any other person, she could come to her and tell her all about it. Patricia was so thankful for that kind attitude that she decided to buy a nice little present for her trip companion at the airport. She gave it to Hayley on the plane, hours after take off. It was a nice little pendant with a rose pendant. Hayley was so surprised; she just gave Patricia a big hug, which surprised her. But she didn’t push back.

 In Manila, they met the rest of the team, mostly composed by men. Some were going to the island to look for minerals and others were biologists hoping to find the creature that would put them in history books. Also a couple of geologists joined them, intrigued by the many tectonic faults plaguing the island. Patricia got nervous when she heard about that, but tried to remain strong because everyone else seemed so put together and committed, and she didn’t wanted to be the only one freaking out.

 On the next plane, Hayley sat far from her, as the seats had been assigned prior to them getting to the airport. So she had to sit with a big guy that sweated a lot and loved to talk about rocks and not much more. They only chit chatted for a bit before the man turned to the other side and decided the person on that side was much more interesting and willing to connect than Patricia. She felt really bad but thought the best thing to do was to try and sleep a bit before having to board the boat, the final leg of the route to the island.

 When they got off the plane, the heat was incredible. Patricia tried to refresh herself with some wet towels but that wasn’t enough. Actually, it made no sense to spend any time trying to get rid of the sweat because each step anyone took on that tarmac meant at least a hundred drops of sweat would roll down their foreheads. So they just followed their guide to the terminal, then to a van than took them to a pier and finally into a boat that was much too tiny to carry so many people. Patricia was really having second thought about coming on that trip but she couldn’t say it out loud.

 As the sun would set soon, their guide told them they would not be going to the actual island that day but to the one just in front of it, were their cabins had been built by the government. Of course, when they got there, the rooms had no air conditioning and the beds were into precisely meant for hotels and resorts. The bathrooms were also awful and they didn’t have much to cook, as provisions had not arrived from Manila.

 So dinner that night was made of cold sandwiches with water. Everyone was so happy that night, around a big table, eating and joking and telling stories. Hayley sat by Patricia all the time but she seemed so much more into the whole interacting thing. Patricia would just sit there and stare at people as they said whatever it was that they said and then she would attempt to laugh or at least smile, but most of the times it just seemed as if had some kind of stomach pain. So she soon left for her room.

 Sleeping was impossible. Partly because of the noise the rest of the people were making but also because of the heat. She had attempted to cover herself with a very thin sheet but even that made her feel she was going to get stuck to it. So she decided not covering herself and sleeping only in her underwear. It was the most comfortable, even if she wasn’t very keen to sleep like that with so many bugs floating around. A couple of hours later, she was finally able to fall asleep.

 She knew she wasn't sleeping to well because she had one of those vivid dreams, when you’re very aware of everything that’s happening. She moved around a lot in the dream and also imagined she was in the middle of a jungle. Weirdly enough, the jungle was less humid and hot, so she felt cozy and a bit less uncomfortable. She felt watched by something, or maybe someone, but no one was around here and that’s when she woke up and realized she was not inside her cabin anymore. She was outside.

 As in her dream, Patricia was deep in the jungle, where it was colder and nicer in general. But she was scared. Why was she there? Had she walked in her sleep, away from the compound? She stood up and started running, hoping to be just a few meters away from everyone else.

 But she ran to the beach and realized, horrified, that she could see the lights of the compound across the water, on an island across it. Somehow, Patricia had ended up in the place where they were supposed to discover new species. But maybe the biggest discovery would be something much less easy to explain or understand.

A dream of biology

  Mary drew the shape of the rhinoceros as fast as she could. The beast was not moving at all but she knew she had to be fast if she wanted to fill her sketchbook with drawings. She had already seen a zebra and also an elephant, from afar. She had also done some landscapes, although she was fed up of doing those. Back in school, that’s all they did. Just walks and walks to draw mountains and a prairie and homework like drawing what you could see from your bedroom window or from the kitchen or from the bathroom.

 Coming to Africa was a surprise from her father. She rarely saw him around, as he was one of the most acclaimed scientists in the country. He was always in some exotic location and he would often mail her beautiful handwritten letters with at least one curious thing inside. He would often mail her feathers from birds that no person in Europe had ever seen, but he would also encase in the envelope a couple of leaves from some rare plants or a complete flower, dried up from the journey on the plane.

 She had kept all of those treasures in a small shoebox in her closet. She would often look at all of it and just sigh, thinking both about her father and about the kinds of adventures she could have once she had graduated from a good university and then study even more. She knew very well how hard her parents had to work to achieve the milestones they had arrived to, but sometimes she hated to be so young and silly. Mary wanted to have all those grownup things right then and there, no more wait.

 Her mother had always been the patient kind. Her name was Debra and she was the one in charge of raising them properly. She also had a job though, so she left at the same time than the children in the mornings and she would return a couple of hours after the school bus had dropped at home She was a very kind woman that enabled them to explore the world and be open about everything. So open that when Mary’s little brother Devon said he liked one of his school friends who was a boy, she was understanding and supportive.

 No one knew if Devon’s crush for his friend was real or something that should be looked at, but that wasn’t the important part of the whole thing. The issue was that they had great parents that tried to make them see that the world was truly open to them and that they could do whatever they wanted, if they wanted to become better people and even help others be better too. That’s why both kids would often go camping in the summer and would be encouraged to join clubs at school. That didn’t make them the best students ever, but it made them curious and that was more than enough for their parents.

 The only thing that had always bothered Mary was the fact that his father had never wanted her or her brother to join him in one of his trips. Of course, she had only wanted to go to one of the shorter ones or maybe something in the summer. But no matter how long it took or where they would have to go, both their parents’ answers were two resounding “no”. Her brother, of course, was too young still to go and do those things. At eight, he barely knew what the world was really about. But Mary was seventeen and she had already decided that she wanted to be a biologist.

 He dream was to be able to discover many new animals and help classify them and protect them. That was her life plan and she had even discussed it with her parents, who had been very supportive up until she had requested for a spot in her father’s next trip to China. She felt she had been very close to convincing him but her mother’s last words, something about school and being a woman, made her father decide against it. She had been very mad with her mother that summer, so much so that they didn’t speak at all.

 Of course it was all related to her father. She was very aware that one of her reasons to go and explore with him was the fact that she felt she didn’t really knew him that well. He was a kind man and very intelligent too, but anyone that worked with him could say that. She wanted to know him properly, as people and not as an adult and a child. There was no real connection when he came and visited because, every time he was with them, it didn’t feel as if he lived there at all. He was just hanging around.

 They only had a couple of very deep conversations, all of them regarding animals and the trips his father had taken. She could hear him for hours, talking about the new creatures he saw and how they were careful enough to preserve every single shred of new things they encountered. He even told her about the other people on his explorations, must of which were always unknowns to her and her brother. They would visit sometimes but would always only talk to their parents, have coffee and then run back out.

 When the Africa trip came up, Mary couldn’t believe her ears. It was so shocking to her that she started laughing hysterically. Once things calmed down, her mother explained that they had been talking about her dream of becoming a biologist and they had concluded that it was necessary for her to have real life experience, on the field. Coincidentally, his father had some things to do in a national park in Botswana in the summer, so the whole family would be able to go with him and just enjoy a couple of weeks as if they were actually working with their patriarch.

Preparing for the journey had been a chore: clothes had to be bought, suitcases had to be taken out of the attic and caretakers for their pets had to be found. Once the two cats and the dog had someone to live with for the time they would be out, everyone got a bit less stressed. However, they had to be smart about what they would pack because, after all, they weren’t going to a beach or some beautiful city to walk and take selfies. They were going where the wild things were and it was necessary to be objective.

 Mary was the first one to have her suitcase ready. Her mother requested to check if everything was in order and she was not so surprised to see that her daughter was taking the trip very seriously. She was so proud of her that she took her to the mall in order to buy some supplies: a large sketchbook and a big box of colored pencils, as well as a smaller case with only normal pencils with different degrees of granite. It was the best gift Mary had ever received and she hugged her mother tight, which was a rare occurrence.

 They were not really one of those hugs and kisses families. They were the kind to remain together and respect each other, but physicality was not at all involved in their interactions. Mary’s hug was something spontaneous, out of sheer joy because everything she had always wanted was happening at the exact same time. It was fun and it was happy, so much so that she even helped her little brother packed and talked about his crush for a short while. It was nice to feel they were more than just siblings.

 The plane ride felt too long and strenuous. The moment they landed and met their father in the terminal, Mary knew it was the thing she had always waited for. From that moment on, she was always very perceptive of anything near her. She would carry a backpack with her sketchbook, pencils and camera, plus some other things that she needed in order to really prove herself on the field. Her father would check on her work at the end of each day and he would always nod and then kiss her goodnight.

 She needed much more from him but she had no idea how to ask him that. She couldn’t just do it because, by doing so, she would probably break the very fragile and interesting relationship they had. She wanted to build on top of what existed and not tear everything apart to try again.

However, she reminded herself every night that they were going to stay there for almost and entire month. She was going to have all the time she needed to really prove herself to be as good as her parents. She needed to do it but she also wanted to do it. She never put herself out of the equation.

Survival

   Fire blurred my vision every single time I leaned over my right leg to run. It hurt like nothing else had ever hurt me, but I had no choice. Running required me to be agile, not minding what was happening with the rest of my body. Those legs that had carried me around all my life had to work at the top of their game, never minding anything else. I felt the taste of iron in my mouth and my mind seemed to leave my body for a couple of moments, but somehow I moved on through the night, like a wraith between rocks and chopped trees.

 When light finally broke the darkness of the night, there was not much to look at anyway. The fields had been almost carbonized and smoke filled every single corner of the once green and lush environment. I stopped and tried to hear the world around me. My ears were buzzing and my head was turning like crazy but I tried anyway but I couldn’t hear a thing. It was then when I noticed that my leg was in a horrible state, a large part opened and spilling blood all over. However, the pain was not as bad as it was supposed to be.

 I tasted iron again and realized I had bitten my tongue while running. There was blood on my head too but I didn’t touch myself to know where it was coming from. It was urgent to find a place to get the proper help I need because, after all that had happened, I was still alive. They had sent troops after me, I had been strapped to a torture table for days and yet there I was, in the middle of a field that they had apparently abandoned. I started walking once more, trying to find a proper exit to that horrible place.

 I might have wondered through the smoke for several hours. I knew it was still day because there was light but it was very hard to see where the Sun was exactly. I tried to identify it a couple of times but it was absolutely useless. So I moved on, walking through the scorched plains, hoping to find a place to rest for a while. I have to confess I never thought of anyone else during that time, I had only myself in mind. What would I be good for if I died? The only way to help others was if I made it alive to the other side.

 When light began to wane, I found the first untouched trees that I had seen in several days, maybe more. I had no idea how much time had passed since everything had started. But there they were, smelling like smoke, with the tips of their leaves burned, but alive nevertheless. I walked into the forest, with a frankly good mood. No one would enter the forest to only look for me. There was a lot more to do in the world than to go after one person that got away. Maybe they thought nature, or what remained of it, would finish the job and make my bones be food for the ground.

 In the dark, I eventually found something of use. It was a small village, made of about a dozen little houses. It looked like one of those places were people gather when they expect to be mining for something, one of those temporal towns that were built back in the day, when retrieving the remaining minerals was of outmost importance for the world. Now, all those miners and their families worked in the big factories in the cities. The old villages had been left to rot under the sun and the rain and everything else.

 Plants had overrun the place, flowers growing everywhere. The smoke around there was much less dense. I was able to breathe a little bit easier. I walked around and eventually found the little hut that had worked as the doctor’s office. Maybe they hadn’t been able to attract a proper doctor to that remote place, only a nurse or maybe someone that came once every two or three weeks to help as much as they could. As I expected, there wasn’t a lot to use around there but almost nothing was better than nothing at all.

 I cured my wounds with whatever there was around and I was lucky enough to discover a linen closet filled with clean sheets and other fabrics. I cut a large one in order to use as bandages for my wounds. My body felt a little better, especially when I lay down in a cot. There was only the light of the moon, which happened to be almost getting to its fullest state. The beautiful pearl color of its surface, visible past the sheet of smoke, made me think of the past, of simpler times that I had been lucky enough to live.

 I fell asleep, dreaming about things that I remembered but mostly about things I had no idea how to understand. It was obvious that I had begun to forget things. Their attempts to make me less of a human had actually worked, as I didn’t feel like my old self anymore. My dream did not make any sense and everyone in it, or most of them at least, felt as a fabrication of my mind or maybe even someone else’s. It was so disturbing, that I woke up very suddenly, sweating profusely and damning my humanity.

 I realized I had slept much more than I had thought. It was morning already and the sound of birds reached me. For a moment, it seemed very normal. But then I realized there was no way. The plain had been destroyed or at least most of it. It was improbable that wildlife would have found a way to survive the destruction of the war and all other things that had happened. I stood up and went running outside, realizing I was not dreaming at all. There was a bird singing somewhere close, and I wanted to see it. I wanted to remember what a bird looked like, one that was real.

 I walked, slowly, out of the smoky cloud that had covered me for hours, maybe even more time. I seemed to be walking on the edge of the forest. The bird was chirping away, probably flying away slowly. I eventually arrived to a place where the trees began to be shorter and there were more rocks and reddish soil. It was then when I saw the little bird making the noise. It was small, brown in color and a little bit puffy. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was happy and talented and free. That was the most important: free.

 I wanted to go closer, to touch him, at least for a moment. But another sound cut me off from desire. The bird seemed to notice it too because it suddenly stopped singing. It stayed on its branch, silently staring right into a group of trees. Then, suddenly and very fast, a bullet rushed through the air and blew up the bird into oblivion. I saw its feathers fall slowly to the ground. I saw beauty being destroyed just because it was there. I felt enraged but also very much confused. I really didn’t like that at all.

 A group of two men and a woman came from the trees. I had walked back a bit just before, hiding behind the thickest tree I had been able to find. I trembled when I realized who they were: Ravagers. They were mercenaries that captured rebels in order to surrender them in exchange for money or food. Sometimes even more ammo for their guns. They didn’t care at all for the rights of others to live or to think differently. That was all done a long time ago. They had sold their souls for a cheap price.

 The woman grabbed the bird from the ground and did something I only heard, because I couldn’t make myself watch any of it. I only heard the crackling of bones and then laughter. I knew of their sadistic ways, identical to those of the people in power. There was no real difference between them. They had all been complacent in what had happened in the country. In the world, even. I only waited for them to go and they eventually did, walking back into the trees, their voices unable to hurt my ears anymore.

 When I felt better, I decided to go back to the village and grab everything I could find that might be useful. I used an old rag to make a sort of bag and put everything I could inside. I put that ball of stuff almost at the end of a thick stick I had found in the forest, getting ready for my next move.

 That night, I decided to walk in the opposite direction of everything that I had seen the day before. They had been the ones to almost kill me. My legs and feet walked on, hoping to move away from everything that had happened. Nevertheless, deep down, I knew that wasn’t at all possible.