Petal [h.s.]

FIFTY-SEVEN - I KNEW YOU

There she was.

She stood before me, the same woman I'd seen in every dream I had. I didn't know her, but at the same time, I did. I could feel in my gut that I knew her, knew her almost as much as I knew myself... and yet, she was unrecognizable to me.

Like all of the dreams I'd had before this one, she was faceless. I tried to wipe my eyes, tried to blink away whatever was blocking my view. I even went to the ocean behind us to splash its water on my face. I tried everything I could to clear my vision until I realized that it wasn't my sight that was the issue. It was my brain. It was blocking her from me.

In place of eyes and a nose and a mouth were hazy features. I could still make them out, but they were blurred to me. I could see red lips spread into a smile every time she saw me, but it was almost as if she had a mask on. Nothing was clear to me. Looking at her for too long made me feel dizzy, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't look away. I didn't want to.

There was something about her that felt... warm. It was almost as if she was made of pure sunlight. I ached to reach out and feel it, to bask in the glow of her. It didn't matter that I didn't know who this was, I felt safe with her. I felt held by her. I felt loved by her.

Each time I saw her in a new dream, I would reach for her blindly, arms outstretched and fingers desperate to cling onto her form. And she let me. She let me grab onto her, but even with my face so close to hers, I couldn't make her out. I couldn't figure out who she was.

I'd watch her lips move, but the words were muffled. I felt like I was underwater. I felt like I was drowning. She spoke words that I couldn't understand and I could see just the outline of her eyebrows as they pulled together in the center at my lack of response. The thought of her being on the other side of this, speaking to me and realizing that I couldn't understand her... the thought of her being hurt by me not knowing who she was or what she was saying-it felt like death. It felt worse than death.

My brain worked overtime to try and figure out who she was. My eyes flickered from her dark hair to her red lips to what seemed to be pink shoes on her feet... little details that I clung to despite knowing I may not remember them when I wake up.

She spoke again, shaking her head, seemingly upset.

"P-please..." I whispered, clutching onto her, scared she would pull away, "Who are you?"

She stumbled back from me, my nails digging into her skin when she did as I tried to keep her close to me. I wanted to scream when she pulled away from me. I crawled across the space between us on my hands and knees, desperate to get back to her. She let me grasp onto her waist, let me press my face into her stomach, my grip so tight that I worried I'd hurt her. I breathed harshly, recognizing her scent and yet unable to connect it to her identity. I knew her. I know that I knew her.