A Dream is A Wish Your Heart Make

A Dream is A Wish Your Heart Makes
by Suzanne Louise
We sit on my balcony overlooking the city skyline. Me with my wine, you with your vodka lime and soda, it isn’t Gin, but it’s close enough and it will have to do. I wasn’t expecting you, and I am out of Gin at the moment. Vodka will have to do. Even though I know Gin is your favourite drink.
Wine, I purposely chose white wine, it makes me feel careless and slightly vulnerable. It’s a quarter past eight in the evening and you’ve been here for an hour.  We’re laughing and chatting about everything that has happened in our lives in the time that we have been apart. We haven’t stopped talking and yet we still have so much to say. I can’t wait to tell you about the time when…..and you’re interrupting as you always do, telling me i am mad, and asking those hideous, useless yet purposeful questions like you always do.
‘Nice place’ you say. ‘I like it better than the last’. you add.
‘Glad you like it’ I respond. ‘You should visit more often’ I add. And I what that last sentence I realise I have overstepped my own boundaries. I promised myself no flirting, no show of emotion tonight. I take a sip out of my wine glass and pick up my phone. It’s a good distraction, and it keeps my eyes away from him.
Away from temptation. Away from desire.
‘Maybe i will’ I hear him say. He is sitting a meter away from me but I’ve blocked his existence, his voice now mere background noise. Barely audible. I finish my wine and rise to my feet, clutching my empty glass. Walking toward the entry door of my home.
‘Refill for me’ – I say. And I know if I have this glass, I will overstep my boundary. Wine makes me vulnerable. It doesn’t reason.
‘Another? Already?’  He asks.
‘Darling, you know wine makes you crazy’ he adds
‘No that’s tequila’ I say.’ You forget easily’. I walk away. He stays still. He doesn’t follow me into the kitchen or the bedroom where I go to fetch a coat, it’s cold, I feel cold.  Maybe I’m just shivering because I’m nervous.
Fast forward three hours, I’m my room, I am laying in my bed, the cotton sheets ruffled around me, I look around the room, avoiding the bright rays of the sun steaming through the windows. I look down at my clothes.  I’m wearing my usual bed attire; my libertines t-shirt. .The bed feels huge, I scan the room with my eyes, the sun hurting my sight. Where’s the empty wine glass from last night, the empty bottle of below 42vodka, his empty packet of smokes, he always leaves them on the bedside table. They’re gone. Everything is gone. So is he. When did he go? The last I remember, I left him on the balcony. I was getting another wine.
Rewind three hours.
I remember now. I have awoken from another one of my Valium induced sleeps.
I draw the curtains shut, reach over to the bedside table, the one that was supposed to have his smokes resting on it, but instead, it contains my half empty packet of Valium and it’s only two weeks into the month, I crack open the packaging and take out another pill, I use whatever is left in the water bottle on my floor to wash it down.Emptying the plastic bottle and throwing it back on the floor.
The Valium, yes it will help, it will help when dealing with the knowledge that only moments ago you were here with me, and I felt, I was happy, but that was whilst I was sedated the the Valiums had control of my mind it took me to the place that I wanted to go. Dreams do that you know, but now reality has this way of waking you up from your dreams without warning and I quickly realise you were never really here and this, it was just one of my fantasies, turned into a dream which felt so real when I shut my eyes and went to sleep.

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