Two Years Ago

Tonight, I looked over my old blog and I found the entry from exactly two years ago today. I can hardly believe that it was two years ago--I remember that day so vividly. A million things have happened since then, it feels like an age ago already, but how can it be two years? I remember feeling so detached from the world that night and I suddenly decided to write a dream down from earlier that week. And I remember this dream so, so well (this is copied exactly as I wrote it back then):

The deepest, clearest blue. Before my eyes, uplifting and effacing everything in its glory. The cool glass that lies between me and its presence is an eternal barrier. I will never reach through and melt into its pure hue. Every atom of my being aches to disappear in its embrace, but the cold glass will never permit this quenching. I am doomed to see and never touch, to yearn and never experience. The world lies forever in front of me, the past haunts my thoughts, and I am alone.

He’s in the other room, the one that faces west with the view of the lake and the dying sun, its light shifting into its last burning shades. All too soon, the night encompasses the world in its tones of darkest blue and sheltering black. Yet the door stays closed. There are other windows, leaving the room exposed from my position; I could see into the room if I wish, but I will not turn away from the wonder of my own blue light, somehow still thriving in the courtyard. This is my place. And I cannot move from it.

The door opens. Footsteps approach. The air feels cleaner, I breathe more easily. He stands to my right, at the other edge of the vast window, too far away. I cannot reach him. I gaze at him, but he does not turn. His face is hardened, his person inapproachable. The blue has swept him away, even as he stands, and he will not see me. I look back towards the blue out the window, feeling inexplicably cold and desperate. This was never for me, just as he never was for me. But I still cannot move. Never.

Two years. God.

I want to try to keep a dream diary again. Dreams have always fascinated me. There are so many that I can still remember because I wrote them down. Some strange and sinister, some delicate and beautiful, some flat out horrific, all of them inexplicable, but I'm glad that I have them. They came from my own mind. So, that's my new resolution.