Another dream of chasing shadows.

Last night I saw him again, Dark. He followed me through the spring meadow that I had built the night before. The hours of light should have kept him out of my lucid maze. But then he would always flung his breath around my neck, my mouth biting the air as I ran tiptoed across the thick soft soil of the meadow.

I slipped through the mud and started falling, my face battered against the mud was falling with me too. I landed on skin. I tried to swim across the depths of his palms but on every movement of my body, a twirl of perfect stillness kept dragging me down.

The smell was charged with the burning rustle of a willow that wallowed louder each time I dropped focus and gave into him. His hands had embalmed my mouth, drawing me inside the seductive shallows of his river. When Morning had come, she had chased him away. But then he would always come back at night, famished and flustered, and I would always have to feed him with dreams of the past.

I wanted a change of dream. I wanted to forget who he was, I wanted to dance with who he used to be, blow my head away into the wind of the night. But then he would always wrap himself around my dancing arms and legs, stopping me.

Losing last night's breath, I threw stones at his eyes so that I could gasp in the blind goodbye kiss from him. I woke up dancing with the Wind. Dark’s willow eyes were watching Wind and I sailing on to the howling ballads of the leaves, while he slowly dissolved into the liquid morning.

What have you found? The same old fears.

There are certain things that annoy me, like those doltish tests that one does, out of boredom of course, to find out what type of whatever you are, which then makes you roll your eyes and even pop them, wondering why you're doing this to yourself after all. Normally two reasons come up, one: that you're probably so desperate for some light being shed on a matter regardless of where the questions seem to be going; and two: that you're so cynical you want to give it a chance no matter how half-baked it is because who knows, maybe it will crack you or the cherry up ;).
I know, the two aren't that much different from each other.

http://www.quibblo.com/quiz/lPr9y/What-kind-of-boyfriend-or-girlfriend-are-you

Yes, blame me for taking a peek inside Quibblo - one world, many answers. I'll be looking at just two questions here (for obvious reasons), and just two answers, and I can leave the rest to you. Enter if you dare in the world of Quibblo, and see what your present beholds of your future.

Here goes nothing:

Your boyfriend or girlfriend had a rough day and is not feeling very social, you...

a) Make him or her a cup of coffee (or a strong drink), and then go in the other room to let them breathe.
b) Hug and kiss them until they tell you whats wrong, and get angry at them if they don't respond to your affection.
c) Tell them that they are being a baby and that your life is way more stressful and they should be thankful for theirs.
d) Tell them to get over it so you can continue on with the evenings plans.

"Hun, you're being a baby, stop that." People can be quite harsh. So c) and d) are definitely too crude and irrational, and they're instantly out. Then b) is probably less likely than a). Whereas there's a chance that I may be put off by his rejection of my trying to make him feel better, I always make myself feel better thinking that I'm an almost freewheeling lover that is perfectly capable of giving her partner the space that he may seem to need. So it's got to be a) a back rub!1 It's what I see myself doing anyway -.-

Your partner forgot to call you when they said they would, you...

a) Call them 38 times until they answer, but in the meantime, leave a voicemail accusing them of cheating, asking them if they even love you anymore, or simply just crying.
b) Don't call them or answer their calls for four days (maybe they will learn their lesson and call you when they say they will.)
c) Call and leave a message telling them that if they don't call you back, you are breaking up with them and finding someone who gives a damn.
d) Give them a call an hour or so later, or wait until they remember.

Call them 38 times and you're a dead duck. Whereas none of these choices truly apply, I must say I've been guilty before of going into a slapdash-heedless state of mind where I just don't ring anymore. Ever. Again. Ok, I kid. I once refused to answer their call back and it made me feel petite. So I learned from that and went to the other end of the spectrum. My problem is that sometimes I may seem too available, too ready to answer even if a significant other don't answer. And it's not being desperate, I'm actually cool like that. I've had many interactions with people that enjoy beating around the bush, and I've never been good at hide-and-seek. They'd never find me, nor would I come out. And the begats would go home to eat and they'd leave me be, out there, in the woods lovely dark and deep, and then I'd have promises to keep. To me. And those weren't particularly sad days. But it's true, some people enjoy tit for tat games, and I've never been good at that either, 'cept I do enthusiastically reciprocate attention, and all things nice. But I also try to understand those who play hard to get... meh, whatever bounces your mattress I guess.

Ok, so what kind of girlfriend am I, master Quibblo?

Independent Yet Devoted.
You are confident enough in yourself that you do not always need that someone by your side, or need to know what they are doing. You trust that they are loyal and don't need constant reassurance. You can spend a night out with your friends and have fun, with or without your partner. Despite these characteristics, you always assure that your partner knows you are devoted to them, even through the most subtle gestures.

Gee, now that's a description that seems to have had much more thought put into it than the actual questions. But never mind, let's look at its silver lining, et voila independence: liberté, egalité, fraternité. For what's true, I do actually see myself like that, not like France I mean, but like an independent lover. And there's probably some who wouldn't agree but maybe they just don't know me that well, bon? 'Independent yet devoted' is definitely the label you can stick to my forehead. And I love practically too, and the other way around. I am an independent lover but I don't thrive on it, nor exploit it, it's a condition that comes more in terms of an unwritten rule. Open to circumstantial changes of course ;). So if my skylark can't, for some time, like a season or two, be in the same nest with me, his nightingale, it doesn't mean that birdy would get annoyed at this, but she would slowly get past it, and get on with things normally too. That is unless she's having the blues and is in helpless need of him, and his feather-loving. That's when I turn into a cry babybird howling at the moon. He would hear my song and would praise me as the light-winged Dryad of the trees, but would then confuse my voice with that of a deceiving elf, for man is ever suspicious and even fearful of too much love, and cannot comprehend constancy. My song would be a never ending tale that travels through rattling branches and reaches the ears of those who wish to hear and listen.

But I deviate, such a romantic escape from the world of reality to the realm of poetry is inadequate. I'll save it for Keats.

I'm not so sure about "you always assure that your partner knows you are devoted to them, even through the most subtle gestures". One would probably say that in a happy world, your partner shouldn't need reassurance. But as growing lovers, I think we do. The act of reassurance is a reversible process, it's like two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. You can't reassure one without yourself being reassured in return. They have to float together like synchronized small fish caught in a bigger school of fish before they enter love's predatory mouth. Don't let fish turns its belly upside down, but do grab a free love ride in the death car, if you get lucky :). In the words of Goran, the fish doesn't think, cuz the fish knows everything.

Changing direction, but without going too much floyd-wise, I don't think we can tell heaven from hell, nor blue skies from pain, nor a smile from a veil, unless love is secure. Tonight I think I traded my heroes for ghosts. And so it turned into another lonesome night, running over the same old ground, and finding the same old fears. I do wish he was here.

But I'll shush now.