Visits.

He looked roughly the same as the last time I had seen him. He hadn’t gained any weight, or cut his hair in a while. The shag looked good on him though. He was clean-shaven, which was a huge shock.

“I know, it’s quite a shock. The lab I’m working at now requires a clean shaven face.”

I stood up and he still towered a good 6 inches over me. I kind of smiled and shook my head. Even after not seeing each other for 3 years he could still read my facial expressions like a book.
We exchanged pleasantries for a while, and sat there. Just being there and sitting next to him I knew it was what I was supposed to be doing. All my worrying had been unnecessary. We stood up and walked back to our cars with a plan for me to follow him back to his house. When I got in my car I chuckled. Here I was driving a brand BMW that Dolan had bought me and Chris was still driving the same Honda Civic he had before he went off to college. He fell in love with the car and told me one night that he would never get rid off it, not until the day it died and couldn’t be fixed.

What probably should have taken a half hour took us 15 minutes to navigate through. He pulled into the drive next to a rather decent sized house for being in the middle of a major city. I pulled over in the road right in front and got out. The house was brick, and had a white walk up. The yard was small, but what more would you expect? What it was lacking in quantity it made up for in quality. The grass was soft and the rose bushes emitted the most amazing scent I had ever smelled. I took a closer look at the rose bushes despite the gaining darkness and stepped back. I couldn’t believe it. Immediately I thought it must have been a coincidence.

“Chris… yellow?”
“Yea, yellow.”

We walked in the door to a rather cluttered foyer. He pardoned the mess and took my jacket from me. We walked in the kitchen and he opened the fridge. I didn’t want anything, so he pulled a water out for himself and popped it open. We sat at the table by ourselves for a good hour talking about small things before deciding we were both hungry. Chris opened his cabinets to reveal anything you ever wanted. We settled on spaghetti, the only thing we were both excellent at making and content with eating.

As we sat down to eat, he finally asked me why I was there. I carefully thought over the answer. Even though I hate it, I answered a question with a question.

“Have you ever heard of the game ‘Truth’? You get to ask the other person anything you want and they have to answer with the truth. Or not at all. But if they don’t answer, they risk losing.”

He nodded no, and then shrugged.

“Oh, well, I was going suggest playing, but we don’t have to.”
“It seems like a high school drink party game to me.”
“Funny, I’m pretty sure that’s where I learned it.”

Chris agreed to play, so I started. I asked simple questions at first asking about how he got his job, what happened with him and his last girlfriend, why he had such a big house for just himself, and why his cabinets were so well filled. He answered honestly – a friend knew a suit at the lab, they didn’t see eye to eye on the importance of work verses a relationship, because he liked it and it already had yellow roses in the front, and his parents had just left two days ago and his mom did his grocery shopping for him one day. Chris asked small questions back about how college was going, had I finally decided on a major, how I was handling the work. But the he dropped the big one.

Driving.

I met a boy, Dolan, about halfway through my senior year and we hit it off immediately. Two months into our relationship people were making bets on when we were going to get engaged. His parents love me, and mine adore him. We were both accepted to the same colleges, and being as naïve as high school sweethearts can be, we chose to go to the same college. Over Fall Break of our sophomore year he asked my father to marry me, and on the first day back I stood in the middle of the Quad as he got down on one knee in the snow in front of all my friends and asked me to marry him. I said yes.

That night I had the dream.

I had a month before school started and 6 months until my wedding. If there was anything I could think of that I needed to do before doing either of those, was find Chris. We had casually kept in touch, emails mainly. If on the odd chance we were both on instant messenger at the same time we would check in on each other. Nothing like the way we used to be.

About halfway through the 5 hour drive I started to reminisce about how Chris and I used to be. “Dumbass” and “Dipshit” were our names for each other, “loser” being the common ground. If I ever had a problem I could always count on him for a very vague piece of advice which I never understood. If he needed help picking up a girl or needed an idea for one of his experiments, I was always there. He would help me get ready for dates, banquets, concerts, proms… anything where appearance mattered really. When I was scared about school or my future he would always comfort me, telling me that he’d ‘been there, done that’ and it was really nothing to be too worried about. College was a breeze for him, and it would be for me too. He said little things like that to keep me calm and sane.

We lived directly across the street from each other, which made life that much simpler for us to hang out.

I began passing the exit signs for Baltimore and began to grow nervous. I hadn’t called anyone but my roommate as I left. This was something big. Thoughts of “should I be doing this” and “why am I doing this” crawled through my head.

I pulled out my phone and took a deep breath. I set it in my lap and pulled into a parking spot near the docks and got out. I went down the little walk way and sat on a bench while thumbing through my contacts until I got to “Chris Parker”. I contemplated hitting the dial button because it was about four years ago that I had gotten his number. I did it anyway and waited. It rang three times before there was an answer.

“Hello?” “Hey…” “Is something wrong?” “That would depend on how you look at it.” “Where are you?” “Um… The docks near the aquarium.” “Okay. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” “Alright.” I sat on the bench messing with the rings on my finger. I watched boats come in and go out of the harbor and several dozen seagulls fly over head. I tried touching up my makeup but I was too distracted. The air was damp and slightly cold and smelled of fish, salt, and bog because of the chill I slid my gloves on. A shadow fell over my lap as I pulled the second glove on and I looked up.

The Dream.

I grabbed my keys and a duffle bag and walked out the door. I got in my car, started it, and called my roommate.

“I’m doing it.”

The past three years I’ve considered it. I think about it constantly, and I’ve had more dreams about it than I can count on my two hands. Each dream is the same, and I always wake up sad, fully knowing I had no control over it, but still upset I didn’t try harder.

In my dream, I’m standing in my parent’s driveway checking my watch every couple of minutes and looking down the road. The date is correct; I’ve only heard it a million times since he first told me. August 12th. Exactly ten days before I started my senior year of high school. That was the day he was leaving. I was scared. I don’t know why, but I start crying.

Chris isn’t there, and I’m sure I missed him. His car is absent from the normal crooked parking spot directly across from my front porch. Rain slowly begins to fall as I become frantic. I keep checking my watch and looking up and down the road, just more frequently. The thunder rolls and I begin sobbing. All I can think about is how I missed him and I missed my chance to tell him everything I never did.

Then miraculously, a very familiar arm reaches around my waste. My nose is filled with his scent and I feel the muscles in his arm tense up I go to turn around. I never actually get to find out if he was actually Chris… I always wake up clutching my pillows with tears dripping off my face.

Now as a college junior, I realized why I was having these dreams.

Explanation.

I've been working crazy amounts the past week or so, and as a result when I get home I am simply to tired to sit down and produce material worth reading.
Today, however, I took my laptop with me to work and wrote when I had down time. I ended up finishing the "Sorry" post, along with a 5 part story.
Haha, I guess that's what they call artistic build-up. =]
Anyway, enjoy "Sorry" and the first part of the 5 part story intitled "The Dream.".

Sorry.

It started before there was even an 'us'.

The sorries, that is.

The first time we were together and both knew we liked each other, your hand accidentally brushed mine as you reached for your backpack.

"I'm sorry."

The day you asked me to be your girlfriend, we were walking down the hall and as you sidestepped a pile of junk you fell into me.

"I'm sorry."

Our one year anniversary we were walking around the town and you stepped on the back of my heel, causing me to stumble forwards a couple of steps.

"I'm sorry."

I learned that these sorries weren't in fact genuine, just things you said because you thought it would be fitting. Because of that, I took it with a grain of salt .The sorries weren’t apologies, I knew that. I’d become accustom to this new definition of something I’d had known for my entire life. As the months went by, “I’m sorry” and “I love you” became essentially the same thing. It wasn’t set in stone or anything, but the understanding was there.

One oddly warm day in November Mike stopped by after school. He was wearing my favorite shirt – a white polo with maroon stripes. He smelled more musky than usual, which should have been a sign. The walked up wringing his hands together as if he was extremely nervous about something. He stopped in the middle of the walkway and looked up at me. I was sitting at the top of the stairs, about 3 feet higher. The sun was coming down in beams, randomly landing on his foot, left hand, and right over his heart. He looked up at me and the vibes coming off of him hurt.
He slowly took the stairs and sat down next to me. He grabbed my hand and kissed me cheek. He sat there for a few minutes, probably both realizing this would be the last time that we were, well “we”.

Words were spoken, tears fell, promises made.

As he walked away, I started to sob.

He stopped, turned around, and offered his hands.

“I’m sorry.”

Apology.

I apologize for the immense lack of writing.
I'm working a 60 week, and that doesn't make time for a lot of writing.
But I'll get on the ball soon.
And ironically, the story I'm working on is called "Sorry."

Lightening.

Small, cool, gentle blobs of water land sporadically on my dress as I fly through the air. The delicate breeze was slowly cooling and turning into stronger gusts as the sun disappeared behind swirling menacing clouds. Something about the rather large tree I was sitting under made me feel safe enough to stay rooted on my swing, so I continued kicking my higher and higer then falling backwards.

It started pouring harder and harder, but I stayed put. I've always been a fan of rain so swaying on the swing listening to the steady crescendo of the rainsplatter was more calming than irritating.

Looking out over the wide field in front of me, I saw the rain and wind bend the tall grass and create a ripple affect throughout it. The bushes and smaller trees were getting their fair share of abuse from the weather, but there was nothing that could be done for them. There was one tree that stood out from the rest in the upper left corner. It was easily the runt of the trees and it had branches that grew upwards, almost as if reaching for heaven. Even bark was slightly paler and more splotchy than the ones surrounding it.

The thunder started to roll louder and more frequent as the now-obvious storm approached. I stood up from the wood swing and cautiously made my way to the edge of my safety zone. The lightening was striking in bright lines all around the tops of the mountains and high points on the surrounding farms. As I turned my back, the bright light I had seen moments before landed within earshot with a stiff snap. I turned in time to see the top half of the little tree fall helplessly to the ground. The cracks and pops of all the branches coming off resonated in my ears. My heart broke slightly because of the misfourtune that fell upon the tree, but what was there to do?

The rain started to lighten up, so I stepped gingerly through the field hopping around rocks and holes that lined my way. After cutting my legs several times on briars and slipping once or twice, I arrived at the poor little tree. Knowing that lightening never strikes the same place twice made me certain that the safest place for me to be was right there. I crawled between the branches of the newly fallen half and climbed up the half that was still standing. As soon as I reached the top of the tree all went silent. It was as if I was the only person --only thing-- in the world. It was a peace that I had never felt before.

With no warning and no mercy, the most brilliant and blazing light shot down from the sky. What I felt was a pain no other human could understand. I felt the electric pulses shoot through my veins touching every tip of my body searching for a way out. I couldn't breathe, my chest tightened up as if it were trying to restrain my palpitant heart.

I fell from the tree. It was the longest descent I'd ever recalled. I fell and fell and fell. There was no bottom to catch me. I was alone, hurt, and scared. Why I had left the safety of my tree swing seared my brain as I awaited the impact.

The impact was hard. It felt as if I was thrown against a concrete wall. The breath was completely knocked out of me and I lay gasping for breath. I clenched my fist to my chest and closed my eyes. My mind racing, I realized something that would forever be instilled in my mind and heart.

You lied.

Accident.

There are some people in your life you'll never forget. It doesn't matter if you meet them in a store or at a party, in passing or through a friend, or even in a dream. The people you meet in dreams actually have a stronger impact for me than real people do. By impact, I mean they make me realize things people in my "real" life wouldn't. Probably because it has to do with the fact dreams come from subconsious emotions and thoughts and shit like that.

I woke up drenched in cold sweat shaking uncontrolably. I threw off my sweatshirt and peeled off my socks. I collected my sheets and looked at the clock. 2:46 am. Fuck. Why the hell did I wake up this early? Wait, even better question, what woke me?

I walked downstairs and put a kettle of water on. I found a dry shirt and pair of shorts to change into and walked into the bathroom. My reflection shocked me for a minute. My hair was slightly frizzy, there were dark circles under my eyes, and my skin was milk white.

Walking back into the kitchen I grabbed a bag of tea and put it in a cup. The kettle let out a loud siren and a vision of ambulances and firetrucks came to mind. Shaking it off, I pulled down the sugar and put two heaping spoonfuls into my cup. I poured the hot water, slowly stirring watching the steam rise off of the cup. In the steam I saw a hood of a car, smashed into itself with glass everywhere. I shuffled over to a barstool and sat down.

I slowly inhaled the aroma of the tea and relaxed. My muscles were killing me for some odd reason. Realizing I couldn't get comfortable sitting on a wooden stool, I walked into the living room and sat on the couch. As soon as I sat down, another flash of red, blue, and white lights flew across my mind. The more I got these visions more more frighten I became that I missed something important.

I closed me eyes and tried to bring back whatever my dream was before I woke up. After about 10 minutes of struggling to bring back the dream, I gave up. It was hard, apparently my mind didn't want me to bring it back.

Almost immediately after giving up, it came to me.

I was sitting in the car with what must have been a boyfriend, because I was holding his hand. He must have said something funny, because I laughed and said, "I love you Mike" and squeezed his hand. He turned an smiled at me and as the words "I love you too" came out of his mouth, a car slammed into the driver side door. I could see the trees and the road and the shattered glass all mold into one green/grey blob floating around. Red goo splattered my face as I tried reaching for Mike while screaming his name.

When I was actually aware of my surroundings, I could hear sirens. Lights were all over the place, and I could feel vibrations from the car. I saw legs of at least 6 people running around as I started to panic.

"Help.....me. Help..."

I began crying and reaching for Mike. The car was upside down. I couldn't move, and there was a searing pain in my left leg. Not wanting to be alone, I began to fiddle with everything. The buckles, door handles, anything that could be my way out.

"Someone grab a backboard, trama shears, and spider straps now!"

What sounded like a saw was in my right ear. A few sparks flew and I passed out.

When I woke up, a woman was standing over me in the back of an ambulance. She was pushing the hair off my neck and feeling for a pulse. Her hands were cold, but I was just happy that I could feel the temperature difference. She must have seen my eyes darting around because she grabbed my hand.

"Listen, it's okay. I'm Sam. I'm going to take care of you. You're in an ambulance, we're on the way to the hospital. You're doing fine, but I'm going to have to ask you to keep looking at me. Stay awake, stay with me."

I did what I thought was a nod, and stared at her. Two other people were near my legs looking very stressed and very scared.

We got the hospital and I tried to ask about Mike. I wasn't being too clear and Sam looked at me with a confused face.

"Don't worry about it. Everything that happened will be explained in time. You just need to worry about you. You need to get better. You're a good person, this wasn't supposed to happen now. This is a strengthening experience. I'm here for you."

This is the point where I woke up.

I know exactly what it meant.

Fuck. I love you too.