April 10, in the morning. I dreamed of you again. It happens to me a lot these days. For several months, you have taken several forms. Famous faces from the past that I loved. Others that I don’t know yet. Some say dreams give us messages. I am on a thousand-year-old land where the first men paid particular attention to them. I feel your call in my chest, in my guts. What do you want to tell me? Who are you? Where are you?
Are you unique in this world?
Are you hidden, scattered, in the souls of those I have met and who made me vibrate? How exactly does it work? Have we met in the past? In this life? Maybe we were afraid. We are not recognized. We have fled. We weren’t ready yet.
I smell you. I see you.
I already know you there somewhere, outside, and inside, inside me. What if we never got to cross paths, meet, and love each other in this life? And if you were unique, it would reduce the chances of you being able to touch you so much. Are you multiple and amazing at the same time? Since no relationship works, were those who came before you some kind of preparation to meet you? I thought I recognized you in them, but they weren’t you. I had to find them to find out.
I know you won’t be afraid of me.
I know you won’t tell me that I talk too much, that I overthink, that I’m going too fast. You will appreciate my intensity full of nonsense. She will make you laugh. She will touch you. I know I wouldn’t be afraid of your shadows since they are mine. I can see them and stay where I will see your light.
To dance is to guide and to let yourself be guided.
I would struggle with your silences and you with my emotional overflow. It will be a dance where forces are drawn. Sweet and provocative. I would fight this ancestral fear of losing you. I have experienced it, time and time again. She destroyed me from within. She killed innocence in me, fragile and loving. You will fight this ancestral fear of letting yourself be invaded. To lose control. To dance is to guide and to let yourself be guided.
We will not leave because we are afraid of hurting ourselves.
We will work for a shared future, and sometimes for that, we will have to fight. We will have to believe in it when everything falls into the darkness of our doubts. I’ll turn on the light when you turn it off. Count on me. I have that in me—lighting at all costs. Relight the fire, again and again, take care of the flame for nights, entire months, even if it means burning myself, burning everything.
I cry all alone in my shower for no reason.
I can’t believe that nature has given women these hormonal roller coasters that turn our emotions upside down without giving us access to other dimensions of being. Different energies, other sensations, intuitions. Sometimes I still have difficulty understanding how a body can endure so many chemical changes, mini bio-bombs. Mine doesn’t seem to be taking it anyway. Does it give me access to other states of consciousness? I cry because I miss you. It’s silly. I don’t know you, and I already know you. I know it.
Intuition. I always knew where I needed to go, as much as I know you exist.
I can not explain it. I know when to go, stay, go again. I know where to go, what to do. I have doubts, existential crises, then one day everything clears up, the decision is made, and I feel in my body that it’s the right one. As much as I think you exist, I am looking for you while preparing to meet you, synchronize our existence, and be on the right frequency.
Of course, I’m afraid.
Like when I decide to travel alone for a year or to immigrate to the other side of the ocean. I’m afraid I’ll never cross your path, miss the time and the moment. And yet, I know that life has been laying its gifts by the side of my road for some time. If I have to cross yours, it will be so. Mektoub.
To express what cannot be said, I sing.
To stop thinking about what words can’t draw. I open my mouth and close my eyes. I whisper melodies. The sounds fly and vibrate with the walls, resonating in my living body. Notes come instinctively, naturally. I think I will sing to Earth to get closer to you. May she hear my wish, my prayer—an invitation. Open your eyes and see you. Feel you.
I saw you, a young man upside down.
“The head upside down. He doesn’t know where he’s going. “I was told. Do you feel my call is like me? Are you listening to me? Where are you going? Come back to me, my love. I am waiting for you.