Many Million Dreams Ago • Ch. 3 of 10
The Chapter’s Song:
The Girl with the Dark Eyes and I started wearing each other’s names around our necks—, tightening the personalized nooses as far as possible. We became branded. It felt good, too. We engaged each other every chance we could, captivating onlookers. A singular mass split in two. Dual shadows that seemed to resemble one another in ways that didn’t immediately make sense. It was all so predictably beautiful in its simplicity—, such naiveté.
She soon decided it was time for a slight makeover—, a simple nose stud is what she had in mind.
“Let’s do it,” I advised her. We walked into the piercing shop as a lady sitting behind the counter gave us a long look-over. She didn’t say a thing and it wasn’t until we were readying ourselves to leave before she finally spoke.
“You two have such bedroom eyes,” the woman said to us. “And I think it’s very sweet that you wear each other’s names like that,” she added, pointing to our homemade necklaces. Others’ opinions of us only strengthened our bond and because of it—, our reasoning that it must be fate after all.
Her birthday would be coming up soon and coincidentally fall on a perfect summer Saturday. I crudely wrapped a new black mini- skirt in skateboard ads that I’d cut out of a magazine and couldn’t wait for her to open up the present.
“I should wear this tonight!,” she excitedly said.
“You will,” I replied, “because we’re doing something different.” The city had only one decent nightclub but everybody seemed to always end up there. We arrived on the street outside the front doors and could already hear the blaring music from inside blocking out all the other sounds around us. We gladly showed our I.D.s to the bouncer and in we went—, making our way down to the dance floor where the bright strobe lights washed us over in deep neon greens and blues and reds. Beautiful flashes flickered from all directions and drenched us in their dreamy and druggy energies. Our bodies moved like we’d made ourselves at home. The pumping basslines of underground trance almost made our sweat jump right off of our faces and onto the floor below. We kept moving. Nothing in the world seemed to matter—, the summer was in full swing, we were in full feather, and things were finally making more sense than ever before. How could anything top the feelings we’d started to feel on a daily basis? There wasn’t much more to go until we’d reach the highest point of our merged journeys before finding out how powerful the fall back downward can truly be. It didn’t make much difference though—, for that moment on that night in that sweaty club, we felt like our time together was infinite—, and for a while, it was.
The days continued to pass by before finally, a new idea entered into our formula.
“Let’s have a dinner date,” one of us suggested.
“Definitely,” said the other. The next night I was on my way to pick her up and while having the usual butterflies in my stomach, I also felt some type of subtle pressure hanging in the air. I knew tonight would be different. The music matched the mood of my racing heart-rate before reaching her apartment. I knocked on the front door and upon it slowly opening, saw her gorgeously wrapped in red. She wore a skin-tight scarlet piece that came up just above the knees, accentuated by my black tailored suit. We looked good together. Back at my place, we put on the proper soundtrack to the glamorous evening as I took her hand in mine and began swaying from side to side. All of the moments gone by at prom came back and gave us another chance at stealing the spotlight. We danced in slow-motion right there in the middle of the living- room. The light-classical music kept playing on as I gently spun her in soft circles, taking her again in my arms and tightening my grip around her waist. We finally made our way into the candlelit bedroom where dozens of red rose petals interspersed with pictures of us covered the mattress. Tender kisses with Merlot-stained lips and smeared make-up made up the rest of the night. The next morning, she collected the cork from the wine bottle and a few rose petals and put them all in a plastic bag as a remembrance of the beautiful evening we’d spent together. I’ll never forget this, I silently thought.
As classy as the date was, what we craved was being alone with each other and our favorite drinks at the ready. I’d made it a personal tradition to toast every shot.
“Ladies, gentlemen, class of ‘04–, this is for you.” We sipped and swallowed down the firewater with pride. The empty bottles were lined up along the wall like hallowed soldiers coming back from war. Like we’d soon be ourselves. They resembled us even before we’d been able to realize it. It was her and me and the bottle made three. Further down into the depths of our watery world we went. Sinking. Drinking. Under the influence—, and very much comforted by it. We rode the waves of what it meant to be out-of-body, through hazy motions—, we lifted up and off the ground toward the stratosphere above. Hand-in-hand, we flew through the air—, from one end of the world to the other. Overlooking the planet below, we’d watch everything that’s ever happened or will happen at once. A block-universe where the same moment would permeate throughout the entire timeline of everyone that’s ever existed. It’d be beautiful. Sooner or later however—, we’d both be forced back down as we’d once again, wake up to the real world.
While back downtown one night, we decided that before we could leave the car to go out and enjoy the festivities we’d planned, we first needed to pre-party. We stayed in our seats, downing shot after shot. Music blasted through the speakers, cigarette smoke escaped through our mouths, everything was as it should be. Suddenly—, bright flashing lights. Red and blue. A police cruiser pulled up and out stepped an officer with broad shoulders who came to my side of the car.
“Good evening—,” he began, “any reason you guys have been parked here for so long?” We didn’t know what to say. “Been drinking tonight?” Again, we didn’t know what to say. “Let’s step out of the car guys,” he finally instructed. Two minutes later, a second cop car was on the scene as both of us were put in handcuffs, getting arrested together. How very appropriate of our relationship. We were transported to the police department in different vehicles and were processed separately. I’d been placed inside my holding cell first and could hear her voice from the next room over. It was tinged with an annoyance that I completely understood given the situation. I was almost proud of her in a way. I figured she’d be a mess, but she was just the opposite; cool, calm, and collected. Time passed slowly. Hour after hour ticked by without any indication of how she was holding up. Maybe she’s fallen asleep, I thought. After a while, I heard footsteps approaching and had to ask what’d been on my mind.
“Excuse me sir, could I write a letter and have you give it to her?” I just wanted to make sure she was okay, to comfort her through some words of encouragement.
“I’m sorry, no,” he replied. So there I sat on the cold metal bench until morning finally came around. I’d almost fallen asleep myself when I heard the clinking of loud keys opening up my cell door.
“Let’s see if we can’t get you two outta here,” the officer said smiling, bringing up the breathalyzer to my face. All zeros. We walked out into the near-blinding sunshine, hand-in-hand, with smiles on our faces and M.I.P.s on our records.
“So what’re we doing for tonight?,” I asked. She replied with a grin and that would be that. Despite our court-ordered directives to attend an alcohol abuse class, we kept up our positive attitudes and tried to enjoy the rest of the season in style. Soon—, I’d be going on a week-long trip and of course, I needed to know she’d be by my side to truly enjoy it. “Come to Naples with me,” I said.
“Absolutely,” she replied.
The plane’s wheels touched down on a Florida airstrip and with that, we’d begun our first trip together. Stepping out into the crisp southern atmosphere, the sun shone down on our shoulders and we immediately felt the vibes of a very different lifestyle than the one we were coming from; wide beaches, endless tanning, and swimming in the Gulf were just a few of the things we had in mind from the moment we arrived.
We drove through the city streets with the top down and loud music escaping from the car. Something felt so right—, that this was the type of environment we should spend all of our summers in from here on out. The sun’s rays beamed down on our faces and finally—, we were free to be the couple we’d always known we’d be from back home; together, in a tangle of brown hair and hazel eyes.
The houses lining the different avenues deep within the neighborhoods were enormous and told of the people who lived inside them. Their lives were probably so interesting and fabulous—, having such places to call home, with grand staircases in the lobby, massive portraits on the walls, and so many memories they must’ve made from all the years of living there.
The sunsets were a painted canvas of oranges, pinks, and sky blues. We sat on the sand and watched the fading ball of fire drop down into the water below. Beyond the horizon; that’s where all of our dreams interwove into a masterpiece of fate and emotional fortune.
“We should never leave here—, ever,” we’d take turns saying to each other.
It was the seventeenth of August—, near midnight. We were swimming in the pool lined with lit candles and every so often, we’d take a break and sit on the steps leading down into the water. We’d kiss and look up at the starry night sky.
“So what are we—, officially?,” she asked looking me straight in the eyes. I didn’t know. All I knew for sure is that I wanted to be official—, so that’s exactly what we became. From that point onward—, we didn’t hide the fact that we were holding hands anymore. We let the world in on our very obvious love affair.
There was a different type of spark in the air the next morning. The wind ruffled our hair as we sat outside a coffeeshop not far from the beach. Her eyes looked different here. Like they’d been telling a story that I was only now catching onto. They sparkled, shimmered—, they personified every summer I’d ever lived through. There was a promise present in them. I needed to get down to its core. Was it that they were just waiting for the right amount of time to pass? Were they seeing something I wasn’t? Were they full of a brighter future together? Maybe they saw us living in a spacious loft in the sky, somewhere in a big, sprawling city—, right downtown, right where all the streets intersect and the people move in waves of absolute energy. Maybe they saw us walking down the same aisle with separate parents by our sides—, going on to hospital visits from friends at the birth of a new generational blessing—, going on to parent-teacher conferences, bring-your-kids-to-work days, walking down a similar aisle decades later for another ceremony. Or maybe—, they saw nothing but the bright sunshine blinding their perspective on all things possible. Either way, it was a sight that I’d remember for years afterwards.
A few days into our trip we found ourselves driving down US-41 South towards Miami, stopping only to get gas or see the street-side attractions. A couple of hours later, we were crossing the huge bridge into Miami Beach as the wind continued blowing her hair in all directions. After finding our hotel and dropping off our things, we quickly headed back outside towards the lively atmosphere. The time had come—, we knew the routine. We started wandering through the busy streets as bustling groups of people entered and exited the booming clubs lining the avenue. We were again, in search of a perfect candidate to provide the necessary party favors we’d need for the rest of the night. Finally, I saw a man that didn’t look lost, but instead, seemed to be walking around aimlessly and alone. I cautiously went up to him and began with my request.
“Excuse me sir, would you be cool with buying us something to drink?” He smiled.
“Can you get me a couple cheeseburgers on the way?” I smiled back. We circled around towards the car and were off.
Again, we found ourselves crossing the bridge with our favorite songs blasting through the back speakers. Our stranger-turned- temporary friend bobbed his head up and down, keeping perfect time with the fast-paced punk music that seemed to be something new for him. We pulled into an alleyway as he hopped out of the backseat and into a corner store. Two minutes later he handed us a bottle of Bacardi O as we sped off towards the nearest fast-food drive-thru.
“Maybe I’ll see you two tomorrow on the beach,” he said after taking his bag of burgers and fries. And with that, he was off on his way down the dark sidewalks by himself, never to be seen by us again, but somehow, still strangely remembered.
Back on the main avenue, we parked the car and started walking down towards the water. Dawn would soon be on its way. We sat side-by-side on the pebbly sand as we watched the sunrise in quiet contemplation, all the while passing the orange-flavored rum back and forth, and each letting out long breathy exhales of what can only be described as some sort of eternal exhilaration. The risks, the recklessness—, it all made such sense. We knew to enjoy it, just maybe, not as much as we ultimately should’ve.
Eventually, reality took hold of us once more and we were again, on a plane headed back home. It was like waking up from the deepest dream—, slowly, I’d regained my old state of mind, I’d come back to my old consciousness, and I was restored to my previous surroundings. We exited the airport and drove to our home city with all-over body tans and an experience we wouldn’t soon forget.
Not long afterwards, we left again on another spur-of-the-moment trip. This time, to a very special place that I’d kept in my heart for many years while growing up; Chicago, The Windy City. Once we were actually on those busy streets and surrounded by all of the skyscrapers, we took to exploring downtown and the areas around it. We walked from store to store, following the dozens of other tourists crowding Michigan Avenue and stopped to look at all the beautiful displays. Fine clothes and expensive accessories for them were everywhere. We let ourselves daydream about our upcoming futures—, if we’d ever be so lucky to wear the designer outfits ourselves and walk these same streets again with a sense of accomplishment, knowing that we’d finally made it. I knew we wouldn’t have this chance again anytime soon—, to be amongst the lively lifestream of so much happening at once—, so I decided to playfully make the most of our visit the best way I knew how.
“Watch this,” I said to her, getting down on one knee. “Will you...,” she didn’t let me finish. She quickly pulled me back up to eye-level and gave me a serious look.
“Don’t do that,” she said.
“Why not?,” I asked back, not having meant to make her upset.
“Don’t joke about those kind of things,” she answered in low tones. I then decided that the next time I’d ever do something like that, I’d have a ring waiting for her as well.
That night, we stayed inside the hotel room and looked out at the wonderful view of the staggering buildings all around. It took us into another world. Suddenly, the city seemed so romantic and bursting with possibility. We held hands, then kissed, then more. The next morning, there were still palm prints on the glass from the night before. We’d watched so many different types of people living out their lives in real time, while we were very much in the middle of living ours. The lights beyond all the windows opposite from our own turned on and off, illuminating the rooms with unique vibes. Lofts and apartments and suites of all kinds were scattered across the sky. There was a sense of excitement to everything happening below as well—, the people all walked in gracious movements to and from places, taxicabs and cars intermixed like streaks of paint on the same canvas, not too far off, the constant sound of sirens wailed themselves and everyone else within earshot awake.
“We should move here one day,” I mused aloud. Though she smiled, I’ll never really know what exactly crossed her mind. That afternoon, we were on the highway again, headed to our actual reality.
Back home. Back to our daily traditions in our old stomping grounds. It wasn’t that they were getting tiresome or that we were growing weary from the same routine. It was more that we were saying goodbye to a perfect summer. We knew we’d never have one quite like it again—, and once winter came around, we knew things would take on a different shape. We didn’t like it. It wasn’t our season.
We both started school again and little by little, ice soon covered most of the streets and sidewalks around the parking lots of our local college. Since we’d always been so full of such good ideas in the past, we decided to go skating in the snow late one afternoon. Though the steps up ahead seemed to be slightly frosted over, I thought it smart to try and clear the set anyway. I rolled up to the edge and jumped—, followed immediately by my slamming into the frozen concrete below. I didn’t realize I’d landed right on my wrist but instantly felt the throbbing pain shoot up my arm.
“I think I just broke my hand,” I said. We were in the car a minute later on our way to the hospital. She was searching her purse for something and finally pulled out her passport, removed the band keeping her hair in place, and put them together to form a makeshift brace for me until we’d get a real one put on.
“Here—,” she said, gently wrapping it around my wrist. “This’ll keep your hand straight.”
“Thanks—,” is all I could say, noticing her warmth and nurturing spirit which had always been some of her strongest qualities.
A few weeks after I’d gotten a neon pink cast placed around my arm and properly signed by all my loved ones, I found myself walking by the stationary section of a store one afternoon and couldn’t pass up buying a couple poster-boards for a project I’d been meaning to begin. Once home, I laid out dozens of pictures from our summer together and went to work. I cut and cropped and glued them all neatly around the canvas. In the middle was a shot of us kissing shaped into a heart. With black paint and a brush I wrote around it the best quote I could find: ‘That which we love, we come to resemble.’ The words would go on to stamp themselves not only on the violet-colored cardboard but our frontal lobes as well—, coming to life in more ways than we were truly ready for.
I arrived at her apartment later on that night and upon pulling out the homemade artwork, she grabbed onto its sides and intently stared at it for a long time without saying a thing, studying it. Then;
“This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me.” She taped it to her bedroom wall within a minute. We decided we should take advantage of the sweet energy surrounding us and have a two-person slumber party right there on the living-room floor. We laid out the mattress but as the hours ticked by, we became restless. There was nothing to drink, nothing to smoke, we settled on kissing instead and seeing where that would take us. I looked at her while she laid on her back and began keeping time with the rhythm of our two bodies together. There was no music, there was only her deep breathing matching mine. Nothing to distract us from the other, nothing stealing away our attention, everything was still—, except us. Something suddenly felt different. We were finally present—, finally alive—, finally sober. I noticed her eyes beginning to film over with a watery veil of emotion. Without even realizing it—, my own had started overflowing themselves and with a single teardrop, our two worlds merged through shared-DNA. We stayed silent for the rest of the night, never once breaking eye-contact. We fell asleep looking at each other and woke up hours later the exact same way.
Meanwhile, the stars in the sky seemed farther off than ever before. We shut the door and refused to leave the safety of her bedsheets. It was the warmth of the other’s presence—, the refuge of the other’s arms—, the calm before the storm. We’d started diving deeper and deeper into ourselves, making less and less contact with the outside world. We’d see the snow slowly falling past the bedroom window, we’d watch the sunrise pierce through the pulled blinds, but still—, we wouldn’t invite anything new into our mutual reality that didn’t relate to our immediate circumstances. Those four walls surrounding us became our closest friends. They saw everything and never said a word. We’d plastered band posters and pictures of each other all over their surfaces in hopes that we’d still feel in touch with a fleeting counter-culture. It was no use—, those things only held our attention for a short while before we’d dive right back into our shared mania. A million “I love you”s wasn’t enough. A thousand kisses and embraces and everything else that comes with a stronger love than one can handle still didn’t compare to the feelings we chased day and night. Euphoria—, plain and simple. There was no finish line to our race—, no end in sight. Something new eventually needed to take the place of yesterday’s rush. So it went, that we’d found a different type of intimacy. Beyond the locked door, beyond the bedsheets, and into each other’s eyes, we saw a new sort of sensuality. Her room became something close to heavenly, something close to hellish. It was in that room where our game of darkness began.