Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Dreams of a Silly Boy...

I want to think of a future with you. I wish there was no silence between us. That we could just sit and talk like we did before all this. I wish we could be foolish again, to dream our silly dreams and plan for the future and imagine what it will be like. There, a beautiful table, the one you liked. Here, a lovely picture to hang. We would have a balcony, or maybe a garden. We would have plants and flowers everywhere, and their scents would fill the cool evening air. We'd eat fruit, and drink coffee, and have guests come to visit us. You'd play that bad music you like and I would lie to you and say it's 'fab'. We'd listen to the water trickle down from a fountain - did I tell you I wanted a fountain? I'm sorry, my love, I was going to tell you. Just like I was going to tell you a lot of things. Maybe I would have made it a surprise. Maybe you would have surprised me? Oh, it's been so long since I've had a nice surprise, since somebody has done that for me.


We knew life wasn't going to be easy, and we'd nod our heads when the old people told us how things would be hard. Did they think we're fools? We'd laugh at them, of course, and at all the silly people who didn't understand us. We'd work hard, and get tired, but we'd be happy. Like that David Bowie song, we'd be heroes, you and me, baby. Then, at the end of the day, when we lay on our bed and the gentle breeze cooled hot skin as it danced lazily through the sheer curtains, we'd tell each other how much we loved each other, and how we wouldn't have it any other way. Nothing in the world would have mattered in that future. Before everything changed and the dark clouds covered everything. Stay where you are. Don't come here, where it's unpleasant and horrid. Stay in my dreams and in the future we wanted. I'll come and find you, no matter where we end up or who we become...

2 comments:

aussiesadiqa said...

What a beautiful tribute to your love. A Syrian man in the diaspora showed me pictures of his home in Damascus with the garden and fountain like you imagine. Your dreams seem perfectly reasonable if the world were not beset with such madness. Memories and imagination have ways of protecting us and also enable us to make meaning. Perhaps in another time, you have pondered Ricoeur and exponents of phenomenology. I wonder what we are meant to understand, to learn from all the darkness...

Maysaloon said...

I'm glad you liked it and thanks for commenting, AussieSadiqa. I haven't read anything by Ricoeur but I'll try to.