I Had a Dream about You Last Night...

I had a dream about you last night… I asked you to stay…

You were so tired. The kind of tired that’s etched around your eyes. The kind of tired that made your bones feel like lead and your chest like it’s wrapped in iron.

You were tired. But you still had that secret joke hiding in the corner of your mouth. Somehow, I knew it wasn’t for your sake that you kept it there.

I fiddled with your bowtie, as you dressed in a suit. I know you don’t wear bowties, but it was a dream after all. The news was on in the background… Not loud, but enough so we could hear with the plethora of red banners spread across the bottom third. I don’t know why it was on. I never liked listening to the news.

You were on your way to a job interview. A little jittery. A little hopeful. But mostly, you carried the weight of knowing that you probably wouldn’t get it.

‘I’m not the demographic they’re looking for…’  you said.

I could see the resolution settle on you like a truck. I didn’t like it. I didn’t want it to be true. I watched you toil and sweat for little more than a ‘thank you’, but you did it anyway. You said you were ‘built for it’ – you were made of a strength that held the rest of us up.

‘I know you can do this.’ My words were filled with conviction, because I believed them. I still do. But you needed to believe them too.

I watched you climb a hundred different mountains. You’d fail and at times you’d succeed, but somehow it never seemed enough. There always seemed to be yet another request or demand unmet. It never felt like enough. You never felt like enough. I wished with every fibre of my being that I could permanently sew the mouth of every lie shut.

You said it seemed a little crazy. You were created to work hard, provide, protect, and love deeply and you never felt more alive than when you were walking in this purpose, but somehow, it all got twisted.

I looked you in the eyes, and made sure you heard me as I whispered – made sure you knew I meant it: ‘You’re enough. Do you hear me? You. Are. Enough. You’ve got what it takes and more. Don’t let the status quo tell you different.’ You smirked but tried to accept it, taking a deep breath to test your lungs’ ability to convert exhaustion into something your body can use to keep moving forward.

Suddenly, we were no longer in the bedroom. We were in the park. The scene changed like they only do in dreamscapes. And like in all dreams, it seemed like the most natural transition.

We were looking at the ducks waddling in a row.

‘You know, I don’t think I’ll ever have mine like that.’

‘Have what like that?’

‘All my ducks in a row…’ You didn’t smile.

‘What makes you think I have mine in a row? Does anybody really? Who decided they needed to be in a row to begin with?’ I let my voice create something comical as I truthfully, however cheekily, tried to stick it to the broken system.

‘I’m tired,’ you said. Almost as though you were ashamed to admit it, but to exhausted to keep it hidden. I could feel the heaviness. I hated it. Mostly because I felt powerless to change it. I also knew the lies have created a noose for you, and for every man who felt like you did.

Your words just hung in the air, and in the corner of my eye, I saw a Shadow shifting in the brush – taking your words as an invitation. It stepped out with a whip and cracked it at your feet.

‘I’m here for you’, it screeched as its eyes zoned in on you – the bullseye.

Without blinking, you started toward it, and the bowtie hit the ground. You threw punches left and right but somehow, they made no sound as they landed. And for each blow you attempted, its whip cut you twice as hard. Another rejection, another lay-off, another price increase, another demand, another business failure, another relationship that died slow death.

I wanted to close my eyes as I watched a fight I could not win if it was the fight that I’d be in. The brutality leaked into my strength, but somehow, I knew you were made for this.

‘Stop trying’, its slithering sound jested. ‘You can’t win. I’ve got this system wrapped around my fingers.’

You looked at me, doubting. As if its words could hold some truth and that you’re starting to believe them. I shook my head in defiance, trying to keep the poison from finding its way in.

‘Not yet,’ you whispered. Getting back up to start swinging again. Relief that you did not give in briefly entered my lungs.

But the Shadow sized up with every word from its mouth echoing the striking of the whip. The speed and force rippled through the air.

‘You. Don’t. Have. What. It. Takes.’ The way the tip struck your face each time made me wince. You choked. Coughing to snap out of it, determined to keep going.

‘You’ll. Never. Be. Enough.’ Gut-punching your core each time you tried to take a breath.

‘You can’t even beat me. A Shadow…’ Your knees hit the ground. The blows felt relentless. Merciless.

‘You can’t even protect your family.’ The whip got you around the neck, choking.

‘You think you’re someone to be proud of?’ You tried to rip it off, no success.

‘Nothing you do makes a difference. The people in your life won’t even notice your absence. The world is no different because of your existence. And if you think I’m done with you, I’ll come after your children.’

The venom dripped with every accent and your eyes grew silent. I could see the trap that would have you surrender and disappear under the weight of this sickening infection. I screamed to drown the lies, but you couldn’t hear me… You couldn’t see me.

The Shadow released the whip, but you didn’t move. It moved with an arrogance certain of its superiority.

Scrambling to find help, I looked around for the first time, and the scene in front of me was repeated - everywhere across the park. There were men in the same position as you. It felt heavy. It felt like defeat. I didn’t know what to do. This Shadow’s words did not affect me like it did you.

A quiet prayer escaped my lips, ‘Stay with me… I know you can’t see it right now, but this is not the truth. We’ll figure this out together. Just stay with me…’

I know you couldn’t hear me. The Shadow stood there grinning. But a sound reached my ears I hadn’t noticed before. Water?

I looked to my left and saw someone carry water from the nearby stream to a man bent over and bloodied. He couldn’t see either, but he was drinking the water given to him.

I rushed as quick as I could, cupped my hands and brought some back to you.

As you drank, I heard the words come from my mouth, ‘Thank you…’

You perked up, and for the first time in a while, you spoke.

‘What did you say?’ you half choked it out, but you heard me!

‘Thank you…’ I said it again.

‘Thank you for what? I don’t understand.’

The Shadow seemed uneasy by our interaction, but hubris in its perceived victory won, and it stayed silent. Its arrogance scoffing.

‘Thank you for staying…

 Thank you for every time you helped.

Thank you for every time you protected, before I knew I needed it.

Thank you for secret choices you made to live with integrity.

Thank you for choosing character over the easy way out…’ I didn’t know what came over me, but I couldn’t stop saying ‘thank you’.

Each time I brought you more water from the stream and with each drink my voice got clearer.

The Shadow seemed confused. Wanting to interfere but couldn’t understand the words coming from my mouth…

As I looked around, I couldn’t see one Shadow close to the stream – which now seemed more like a river. I tested my theory and splashed some its way. It flinched like it was touched by acid.

Not quite able to stand on your own yet, I girded you up under your shoulder and brought you closer to the banks.

The Shadow flung slime that almost crippled you as it spat, ‘This is not the end. I’ll see you again and around we’ll go ‘till you give in!’

We were almost there. My knees buckled, but a few steps more and all we could hear was the rushing soaking us from head to toe.

You took a breath so deep you’d swear you’ve never tasted oxygen. And as your chest kept moving up and down, I began to clean the blood and dirt off your wounds.

‘Thank you for being strength to others, especially those who could not stand on their own. Thank you for looking for ways to be of service, even when no one asked you and you did not even expect anything in return…’

Your eyes began to clear. But the first time you could see perfectly was when the water seemed to quiet completely. The surface, like a mirror, pulled your focus as you stared into the eyes of the man staring back at you.

‘I can see now…’ you said - as though you couldn’t see before.

I don’t know what you saw in that endlessly suspended moment, but you looked up and with a resolve as old as time, you said: ‘I’ll be ready when it comes back.’

The sun was setting and where it met the water, the colour turned to fire. That same fire, now in your eyes, burned with an understanding of what you’re made of – what you’re made for.

I thought we were still in the river, but we were back in the house. You in your suit – although the buttons were loosened and the bowtie on the floor. We sat on the edge of the bed. You just kept looking at me, smiling, as though you couldn’t wait for your Shadow run-in. And we both knew that it would be its end. It would be no contest.

‘I’m really glad you stayed… Thank you for not giving in.’ I knew I didn’t need to say it. But relief and gratitude would not let me keep silent.

I had a dream about you last night… I asked you to stay… and you did.