When I should've given you a letter . . .

When words emerge a little too late. . .

My dreams are the only place I am allowed to think about you. So that’s all I dream about: how you look, what you’d say, how’d you say it, how in a nightmarish world you wouldn’t know who I am, or I would stumble across a scene where you are the lead and some beautiful girl is the actress �" and that’s okay. It doesn’t pain me because I can see you for a while.

I never told you, but I wanted to.

That’s how it began, you know. It wasn’t that I was fond of you or even wondered how it would be like to be with you. I just dreamt. And in the trance you would make me high. I’d hallucinate in colors that didn’t exist, colors without name. I saw creatures unimaginably incredible, water tasted like fire, fire burned like ice, icy wind blew me into magma and it crawled up into me, just like you did. Stupid sleep: I tried dream catchers, praying, liquor �" but you wouldn’t leave me alone. You were always there coiled up in my unconsciousness, waiting for me to be vulnerable so you can drain your venom into my flesh, into my mind.

I never told you, but I wish I had.

I couldn’t help it. The obsession knocked me over and drowned me �" it made me someone I wasn’t supposed to be. I feel this is too honest, but I need to say it. I always vowed that I won’t do it. I won’t be like anyone else. I didn’t want to fall, I did not want to give myself away or share myself. I was in darkness. With you there was light. Now the darkness resumes. You were my Hadean. The beginning of life. I am a hard a*s, I know. When my mother talked of babies I cringed. When my cousin mentioned marriage I vomited a little and swallowed bitterness. In the park I’d see people holding hands and I thought they were stupid. You made me in touch with nature, with wanting to be natural. Normal? I hated weddings, but if I married you I would have done it all �" even wore a dress. I loathed pregnancy and stretch marks and getting fat and brewing an alien in my body �" but if it were for you I wouldn’t have minded a bit. I would have given everything I had and expected nothing in return.

I should have told you, shouldn’t I?

You scared me. I don’t know why. When you were with me it felt like my skin was inside out. Vessels and nerves were exposed and I could feel everything that I shouldn’t. I felt hollow and full at the same time. A small xylophone A-G’d on my spine in a tune that could be sung anywhere: in Victorian, Stone or post-Modern. I feel none of that now �" I’m glacial. I just feel cold and dark and alone. As if everything is extinct and I cannot die. If I perish the ice will preserve the pain until its warm enough to be resurrected.

I would’ve if I wasn’t so terrified.

I dreamed again last night �" it reminded me of something. We never kissed, never had sex. But I recall that when we touched each other the leaves would cease to drop. Wind would freeze mid-blow. It was never said or explained or consummated, but I think somewhere between hopes and dreams our souls were aware of something we were too dumb to understand.

I wanted, I wished, I should’ve, I would’ve. I love you.

Now I know why I couldn’t say. It isn’t the right word. It’s devastatingly more. It couldn’t be called pearl when it’s clearly opalescent.