Missed Connection (in Dreamland)

In early August, I dreamt of us coming home together late at night. We might’ve been a little drunk or a little stoned, sharing a playful and flirty energy as we walked.

I didn’t recognize the place where we arrived, but it felt like yours. The way we laughed and talked felt so natural, and what we did, I’ll say, was the realest I ever dreamt.

I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror, the counter top quite low, hitting the tops of my thighs. I remember thinking I looked like myself, my favourite version of me, which I’m not sure I’ve met yet.

You joined me then, your dark skin in contrast to mine. I laughed at something you said, your arms hugging me from behind. You kissed my shoulder and I remember that you were taller than me, which is rare, since I already stand at six feet.

I’m almost certain that your name is Kyle. I also dreamt of your two siblings (or children of your own?), a girl near 11 and a boy around 3. You’re not younger than me, I’m not sure of your age, but I don’t think you were born before 1992.

Did you dream of me too? Are you only a figment or something to come true? I’ve resisted writing this, feeling sheepish I’ll admit, but I can’t really let such a profound dream disappear with the months.

Do you know me?

Was this your dream too?

If so, please tell me how your sister’s hair was done.

I can’t wait to hear from you.

— Yours