Once upon a dream
There are dreams which will not withstand the force of time. Even the strongest and most convincing dream will prove its fragility when confronted with the ever destructive reality. The laws of the universe dictate that dreamers shall be punished by the strongest and most cruel sentences of all, that of disappointment. That fierce empty feeling which channels through your limbs to swallow that precious moment of wholeness and clarity. That numbing sense that seems so
Disappointment serves to fuel the regret of dreamers. Like an inexorable guard, reality punishes its prisoners for escaping.
I too have submitted to that ever luring escape that dreams offer. Like a devil so wonderfully welcoming a confused soul in its seductive embrace. It was he I dreamt of, like a precious gem too miraculous for possession.
Squall Leonheart they called him. But to me he was more than a name, to me he was the dictator of my dreams. Demanding every bit of sanity life has so generously bestowed upon me. It was always he who could turn the powerful Quistis Trepe into a meek lamb. Like a wolf ripping my emotions apart. Yet I came back every time to offer him more. He was like that seductive vampire, cloaked in black, thrusting his fangs of cruel indifference into my neck and I was helpless, gasping, begging him for more. He was killing me slowly, with every refusal destroying that which I always have treasured, my individuality. I slowly ceased to exist and yet I smiled and thanked him for it.
I used to shun the daylight, it was that force which would waste my dreams into nothing but ashes. But the nights, oh the nights. The night was the only thing that truly belonged to me. Because when the sun had sunk into the ocean and the moon reigned over darkness, he would come, slowly sneaking up from behind to grab my hand and spin me around. My unclipped hair would swirl around me as I fell into his arms. His sensual lips would treasure my bare skin and his eyes would blaze of passion for me.
How could I possibly care whether it was reality. Dreams offered me what reality could never, it offered me that one irrefutable logic truth. All my uncertainties, my self-abasement and unreturned longing converged into that quiescent moment of pellucid contentment. I existed in a world where no feeling would go wasted, where no whisper went unheard and where no truth went unseen. In this world, love would be returned with interest. In this world I was no longer a mirage and Squall was no longer a dream.
But I too have received my punishment for my escape.
How absurd that one insignificant event could break a woman like me. On the night of the celebration ball, I stood in a dark corner. Watching the crowd with empty eyes, for in my mind I was the only one there. Dressed in a dress of silk I imagined I stood on the dancefloor, like a delicate damsel waiting for that one invitation. And he would appear out of darkness, without speaking a word, he would utter praises of my beauty. I would laugh and take his hand to perform the captivating ritual of the waltz.
But he never came of course or I else I wouldn't be here sitting at the window, watching the sky in melancholy, longing for another passing.
It was then when I saw him, on the balcony. The evening breeze taking up the privilege of playing with his locks and stroking him softly on the cheek. Make me the wind, I screamed in my head. Let me be that invisible force which could sooth him in his heated moments. He then turned and his eyes gazed into mine.
I froze there in my dark little corner, my speech and thoughts halted, but my heart raced in my breast. I was terribly afraid that my heart would not hold such capacity of blood. Save my sanity, I whispered in my head. Turn your intensely beautiful gaze away from me or I shall die.
He didn't but did something much worse. The edges of his stern lips curled up and his face transformed miraculously before my eyes. I saw a sight I'd never dreamt of, before me, the dark angel illuminated in his effulgent sincerity. Like a new born rose opening its petals for the first time to welcome the sun. I have not just seen the transformation of a man, but before me the very laws of the universe bend and there was no more light and darkness. Before me, there was the real Squall.
I gasped, my fingers brought to my lips in sheer amazement. Reality had shattered into a thousand pieces under the force of my dream. For Squall was now smiling upon me.
How could I possibly describe the vortex of emotions channeling through my veins. What would you know of supernatural ecstasy? I could swear upon my soul that I was flying at that moment. I was floating so high above earth that the concept of the gravity of pain seemed surreal.
I would die, I was sure. No human could stand against so much happiness. I was to die of sheer exhaustion.
But I should have known that for a dreamer like me, the penalty would have been most severe and would be carried out when least expected.
Squall extended his hand, an offer of his own dreams. I reached out unconsciously but it was not my hand which met the cold leather of his glove.
It was then when I became aware of another presence. It was she, that vile witch who had so cruelly snatched him from my dreams into her reality. His hand drew her to him and his sporadic smile broadened.
No, I screamed. No more, no more will you take from me.
But my lips never moved and my eyes gazed at them in emptiness. People around me spoke to me in a language I could no longer understand. One after another praising my beauty.
But what does my beauty matter, if the one I love thinks me ugly?
What does it all matter when his affection was reserved for another? She could not even grant me your smile. Her insatiable hunger for possession knew no bounds. Even that sporadic moment of reality was robbed of me. And Squall, he stood there, directing his smile to a monster and he allowed her to take him from me.
The shattered mirror of reality glued back together and my prison guard laughing diabolically at my misfortune.
I turned away then. I have received a penalty worse than death, to loose a life was to feel no more. But to loose a dream, is to walk the ranks of the dead but never allowed to join them in their rest.
Now I sit here, gazing out of the window into nothingness. The inexorable sun must have pitied me and allows herself to sink into the ocean to grant me the comfort of the night. But as the moon appears and smiles upon me so fatherly and gentle, I close my eyes.
In the darkness of my mind, Squall appears again. He is there to taunt me, I say to myself.
But he is not. He merely takes my hand and smiles upon me, like he did earlier. I bid his vision to leave me but his image is as contumacious as my dreams.
It is now when I realize that I have been spared of my punishment.
Because as he takes me in the darkness of my mind, I realize I have no regrets. No disappointment can be so severe that it lessens the happiness I feel now in my dreams.
This is my reality from which I never wish to escape.
I Quistis Trepe, am no longer a prisoner for reality.