I've had some incredibly emotional dreams. Some humorous, some good, and some terrifying.
One dream keeps replaying in my head.
I was hiding outside of my dorm behind a bush, in the grass. I don't know who from, but I was breathing heavily and there were tears in my eyes. I was shaking from fear.
It was late. Probably around midnight.
The moon left the heaviest imprint, piercing the thick darkness, more vibrant than the dull, burnt-out street lights just ahead.
Then he appeared. Not the person I was running from, no.
It was Ben.
I grew intensely anxious.
He was sitting out in the open.
He said something, but I couldn't hear his voice over the pounding of my heart and the air escaping my lungs.
I motioned with my wrist, a readable 'come quickly.'
I wanted him to come closer.
I wanted him to lie down behind the bush and hide with me.
I wanted him to be there.
Safe.
Secure.
He wouldn't move.
He kept talking and all of a sudden, I could finally hear his voice.
The voice I haven't heard in two and a half years.
As if, he really were right there.
I remember that voice.
His laughter was inserted in all the right places.
His smile, genuine.
His posture, innocent.
A rush of calm drenched me as if engulfed in the Pacific,
And I did not worry any longer for either of us.
I knew it would be okay.
I got up, dusted off my front, and walked over toward him.
Sitting down beside him,
I didn't say anything.
I just listened to the inflections in his voice.
What was he talking about?
Fishing?
Soccer?
I don't remember.
I do remember his voice fading,
And being woken up by my alarm.
I do remember trying to force myself back asleep
To hear him speak once again.
I couldn't.
Instead, I lay awake praying that someday
I would meet him in a dream again.
To relive his memory.
Benjamin Chase Culver
1989-2006
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