Another day's fading, I was lying in my bed looking through the window. The night was peaceful and the moon shone in full, there is even twilight upon me, but I was restless.
The conversation I held with my family a while ago kept ringing in my ears ...
Sister informed me the state of my new home. I was far from happy but shocked and miserable. I cant help picturing in my mind where my room should look like now in my forlorn home. Everything is gone, they knock off my bedstead, wardrobes and tables, they removed my belongings, they even wiped off my favourite blue. The piano was nowhere to be found and the pieces I used to play and hum along might be dumped or as good as ripped to a thousand strips. Where would my sweet home be when now it shows itself as a total stranger? I laughed it off as usual "Why? I should stay here, at least I have a proper bed!", in the most casual manner I could manage, but I feel bitter.
Mother took over the phone, after exchanging some routines, I was tempted to ask where will I sleep now my room is empty? She returned that there would be a bed should I decide to stay for long. She was expecting me by the end of June and was looking forward to see me for the whole summer. But the idea of seeing my new home shook my every limb. Can I bear this sight? They hurt me without even slighly realizing it. How could they? Mother knew very well, how much I love my room and my belongings, how these familiarity could console me of my weary heart, but they had completely altered my room, my home and ruined the place where I would find rest.
My sight was suddenly blurred, and I felt tears rolling down liberally down my cheeks. Then I sobbed uncontrollably into my pillow.
I could not understand what had caused this weakness in me to imerge, noticing how easy it is to provoke me to tears and wails, and as unreasonable as a terribly spoilt child now.
I would often demand total attention and company from my partner, and fall into melancholy whenever he fails to comply. He does try to reason with me, but I threathened to give my hand some more good slashes unless he gives in. Looking at the raw wounds on my hand, he kissed them and it broke my heart, knowing that I consumed his love so much that he is on the verge of exhaustion. Sometimes, if he could steal time and come to my place, we would stay in each others' arms for a bit, though remembering all the rows, pain and tears, not uttering even a word, somehow it heals. But I doubt this magic would work forever.
Having all these thought fluttering over my head, I fell into a dreamy sleep, seeing an awkward green sky, piano notes flew and flew in a distant ... I saw my Pet speaking to me in a foreign langauge I cannot decipher, soon he gestured goodbye and was walking away, he was leaving in such easiness but somehow I cannot keep up pace, and his image grow smaller and smaller until out of sight.
I am not superstitious but I do believe that dreams hold a certain clue to my life or something which worries me in my subconscious. I was weary and drove all these disturbing thoughts out my mind. I prepared myself, put up a barely cheerful smile and left home to meet my Pet.
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