I had a dream…

I had a dream last night, I woke up thinking it was true. I both love and hate those kind of dreams. Mine always seem to be about some love interest, and when I wake up I have to talk my dreamy brain back to reality and remind myself of all the ways he was, in fact, not prince charming. 

Last night it was Langston, my fellow dreamer. His feature film was about to debut, it was showing at the Dorothy theater. Dorothy stuck out in my dream. 

That’s my Grandmother’s name- I must look that up later. 

He said the Dorothy theater was where they debuted some old classic movie he loved. I chuckled because he’s always loved foreign films, a historian of cinema I would call him. 

Oh wow, as I am writing this a song just started playing “Act. 4 Devotion” an English robotic voice said over a smooth lofi beat. I look at the playlist, it’s called “The One.” 

In the dream, he showed me around the theater with this unbridled happiness that made my heart warm to see. His hair was cut close to his head, his beard trimmed tight and stylized. When I was with him his curls fell from under his too small baseball cap, his beard ran a ruckus over his smooth skin. I could barely see him back then. He grabbed me by the hand and walked me around the theater. The night air was warm and balmy like we were in the South during summer and fireflies lit the night. 

I gave my ideas of how he could program the night he’d been waiting for, a party over here, a red carpet right there. I knew you would get here, I told him. He smiled. I can’t remember now if he ever smiled at me like that. 

We spent the rest of the dream riding on bikes through an old city that looked like a set. Like we were kids or carefree - one of the two. 

When I woke up I felt so happy. As if that had all just really happened. As if I was with him again. This isn’t real, I said out loud, on the edge of my bed. 

Then, I opened up Instagram, the current boy who is maybe just a fling or a fun time, or nothing at all popped up. His post had a picture from a film scene, maybe it was the “Matrix?” A girl was lying on top of a man in bed, kissing him. “Is this a dream?” she says. “Absolutely.” He says back. 

Damn. 

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If you’re interested in Langston, or why I’m still dreaming about him, that story is in This Is How You Love Her—and how I found more of myself along the way.