The Dream Letter

(A short story by Scot Eritemu)

Last night, I had a dream.

I knew it was a dream because you were there. You; Sandra Duru, were there in that dream standing on
the coast, wearing the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. But you and I were not together, and you
and I were not alone; My principal from high school; Mr. Ezego was there too (lately, he seems to be in
most of my dreams). His Golf with multicolored doors was parked somewhere around the corner. Olu
and Daniel were there too, but Tonye wasn’t. I think he was already dead or dying (I can’t really say), but
Daniel and I had talked about him. Olu and Daniel were in the water taking a swim, and a part of me
expected to see Tonye standing around the corner, smoking his beloved cigarettes, but he wasn’t there.
My mom (God rest her soul) was there too, but I’m not so sure, I just sort of sensed her. And so was that
guy from American pie, what’s his name…Jason…Jason Biggs. That’s right he was there too, with this Ibo
girl; (I can’t remember her name), the one from Violated. You remember that movie starring RMD? Yes
that one, the violated one, she was there. They were sitting together on the coast close to you, not too
far from me.

My mind whispered to me. It said; “Greg, go for her, now is your chance” only my name isn’t Greg, its
Peter. “Who’s Greg?” I asked. Definitely not me, yet my mind had chosen to address by that name, or
was this really Greg’s mind? It felt like I was losing my mind (no pun intended) of course not I reassured
myself. This mind is mine. And if it chooses to call me Greg, (then what the fuck?) I’ll be Greg.

And then I started walking towards you; Sandra Duru the girl of my dreams, object of my pain, affection
and desires, I started walking towards you, all the way, battling within myself for the right word to say,
the right way to smile and the proper way to say it. I was also battling the desire to just stop there
instead and watch you from a distance as I have done all these years, but this didn’t seem like the day to
stand afar. Perhaps Peter was chickenhearted, but I’m sure Greg wasn’t and right there in that dream, I
wasn’t Peter, I was Greg, so I walked closer to you.

As I got closer; close enough to touch you, you turned around sharply, saw my face (and perhaps my
fear, because my heart was beating so fast it almost collapsed when you turned) and smiled, yes, you
smiled. Confusion mixed with shock in my head and created Shockfusion; a state of absolute
cluelessness induced by shock, which often leads to dorky mumblings, sheepish silence with a rapid
blinking of the eyes and momentary deafness in which a person usually recovers from with a stupid look.
I turned aside to see if (as it usually is in the movies), there was an athletic dude there; that you were
smiling at instead of me, but there was none. Your smile was mine, it was for me, and so beautiful it
was, far beyond far words could describe, like… like… like you, it was beautiful, just like you.
You reached for me and pulled me closer. Without questioning, but with so many in my head to ask, I
followed; feather weighted and almost cried when you rested your head on my chest. I wanted to touch
your hair softly and run my fingers across your whole face, feeling your ears, feeling your nose, feeling
your lips, your jaw, your neckline, wanting to kiss your throat but I was scared to break the moment, I
was scared to lose it, I was scared to lose you with it.

“Where have you been?” you asked, with your head still resting on my chest. I wanted to say;

“Behind watching you for the past six years, loving you, and praying for this day, even if it were just one
second of it from the whole twenty four hours of it, even if that second of it, was in a dream of it.”
Instead I said; “Behind, watching you.”

You looked up at me and smiled. I couldn’t believe I was smiling back at you. This is a dream, I said to
myself. It’s a dream of what I’ve always dreamt of.

The day was fading into night, Olu and David were nowhere in sight, and that American pie guy had
become that guy from Titanic; Leonardo, that’s his name. This is a dream; I must make the best of it. I
looked at you in my arms and thought about the best way to live this dream. A part of me said sex. I’m
sorry if this offends you, but, a part of me wanted to bend you over and make love to you like I had done
no other before. But then another part of me whispered; “make it special”

(Special, I thought to myself) how do I do that?

I held you out and looked into your eyes; they were completely oblivious of the boner in my pants and
the confusion in my head. For me; Peter, this was a dream, but for you there in that dream, this was
real. You were real, your feelings for me were real, you really were with me, and the look in those eyes,
were honestly true, plus in this world Leonardo DiCaprio was really there.

I looked into your eyes and saw myself drown in them. I was about to say the words hidden in my heart
for the past six years when you beat me to it. You said; “I love you” and I prayed to God to let me remain
in this dream forever. Not for Him to make it real in real life, but to keep me right here in this world;
where you and I held each other in love and Leonardo DiCaprio sat next to us.

The night had fully become. And bright stars littered her sky. That was when I heard Asa (pronounced
Asha) sing that bird song in Yoruba, (or perhaps it was the radio that sat next to my bed) and at that
moment you and I sort of levitated from the ground and started floating towards the stars guided by
Asa’s chords amidst the echo of your words; I love you. I looked at you and saw you watch me. The
moment lingers for hours, but only in my head. I lean in for that kiss so sweet that would make this
scene complete. But midway, just a few inches from your lips, you…faded into the night.

Am I awake? I asked myself, and then I fell.

From Olympus I fell; swiftly. My senses clung to the essence that was fast fading away; yours. This fall is
real, I thought to myself and its impact would cause more pain. Faster I fell, but the ground was so far
away, almost as if there was no ground. The darkness absorbed my fall but did not break it, fear
enshrouded my body and madness threatened to tear me apart. My Reality saw; I really was falling, but
which of me was; Peter or Greg?

Impact…

Am I awake? Please, let me be awake.

I was awake on the ground, below the bed I had fallen asleep on. My fall was real. But was that why you
disappeared? I asked myself. Then it dawned on me that you had disappeared before I fell. It definitely
wasn’t my fall. So what was it?

Four hours later at the office, the dream was still so clear, and my desire to know why it was you left was
still so strong. I played the scene over and over again, trying to find out what it was, not wanting to let it
go. Maybe it was me, maybe it was something I had done, something I had said or hadn’t said. The
thought that I couldn’t get with you even in a dream, was cruel and unfair. Something had to have gone
wrong. Then it hit me, (at least I hope it’s IT) when you said; I love you, I didn’t say anything in return. I
was supposed to say; I love you too, or I love you more, but I didn’t, no, I didn’t.

You see, that’s why it all went wrong. And then it dawned on me; that’s why it’s been going wrong.

Please don’t lose me now; this is it; why it’s been going wrong in real life. Not like you’ve ever said; “I
love you” to me or anything like that before, but what about me? For the past six years, I am yet to say a
word to you. Yet I have loved you from the first. I’ve always chosen to watch from behind. And what was
it you said to me in the dream, when I finally walked over to you? You said; “where have you been?”

Where have I been?

I’ve been behind you for far too long, when I should have been with you.

Sandra Duru, I can’t stay behind anymore, I want to be with you. I took the fastest bus I could find down
here to tell you this;

I love you.

I’ve loved you from the first day I saw you in May, six years ago at Tonye’s birthday party. I know you
probably don’t remember it, but I do, you were wearing a white T-shirt with the inscription ‘love sucks’
and right there; looking at you, I couldn’t have disagreed more, because what I felt for you was perfect.
But I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. All I could do was look and for six years that’s all I’ve been doing,
but not anymore. If I could lose you in a dream, it means I’m about to lose you completely for real
without a shot, that would be hell.

So here I am, open, scared, but free. I love you. Is there anything you would like to say?

(The Dream Letter. A short story by Scot Eritemu)