Childhood Friend

I went to sleep hoping to get some rest. I went to sleep, knowing well, that my dreams are rarely synonymous with rest. Wondered, I did for a split blink of a moment about what divine messages would I receive in the state of my slumber. Right before my waking, at the rising of the sun, you came in through the front doors of my mind. We embraced as we have been looking for one another all this time. You sat across from me at a coffee table where there was only room for two. I told you of my life, of how I write, how I got married, how I have lost my mind and then found it again in the pursuit to become sane. Then, you said a few words too, and your words made me sad. You were going away and never coming back. This bitter beverage we shared was our last goodbye, and no, you cannot visit. I asked, but maybe you could try . . .

Upon my waking, I remembered all of the ways you shaped my life. “Books are cool, games are lame,” “You gotta exercise the brain by drawing with your left if you predominantly write with your right,” “You clean the dishes with hot water; otherwise bacteria won’t die”. Who is to say where you were going and why. Are you still here?

 

Anastasiia Ryzhkova