Dream or Delusion?

It was a sunny winter morning. One of these you wake up into another gloomy and boring day and nothing can lift your spirit. That morning I put my house clothes on, some hundred year old blouse, my hair and nails undone, and went for a business appointment. All I cared about was to be back in my nest, have a martini and sleep the gloomy day over. Well, it turned out to be one of these days which not only stack in your mind forever but also turn your whole life upside down.

The meeting was brief and the man was as boring as was everything else around me. Thank God that my stereotype life, overwhelmed with worries, was interrupted by Christmas Holidays. My heart filled with joy as I drove through the colorless desert to visit my family. I always loved the day of singing when I could wrap into my dreams and forget the whole world. But not this time. Just as I sang “sing singer song make it simple to last your whole life long” hands of the boring man came on my mind. Then his distinguished walk, his mouth of a size of an apple and his tranquil voice. I heard every word he said. Suddenly, his words had meaning and depth. That Christmas I wasn’t with my family. That Christmas my singing came to the end. I don’t remember how I got back home. I only remember the furious shuffling among cars, anxious to listen to a tape with my future prediction by a well known psychic whom I didn’t take seriously until then. The age and the initials of my predicted lover agreed. An absolute thrill, overlapping insecurity and fear, captured my mind.

I call it love. Shouldn’t I rather call it poisoned mind? Or possessed by devil? The last one fits me best. I was possessed by this beautiful and charming devil. My boring days were replaced by dreams of making love to him and my nights were replaced by dreams of him making love to me. Or was it the other way? However it was, our bodies had never really connected and the tiresome was unbearable. Is this what love supposed to be about? Longing for someone you cannot have, confused feelings you cannot solve and the pounding heart stubbornly settles in your throat. I had no idea that the worst was still to come. My beautiful devil had enough of my dreams, he called them delusions. Out of love for me, he destroyed my dreams in a manner that only devil can possess. My heart stopped pounding on its way to stomach, my confused feelings united into one, called misery, and I was finally free off longing and dreaming.

Recently, being back into my daily routine of boring days, I listened to the psychic prediction. All is there, except for the one part. Voice of the psychic is suddenly cut off and picks up again when the part is over. My beautiful devil was right. It wasn’t a dream, it was delusion. Dreams come true sometimes but delusions never do. He was never mine. He was just one of my damn delusions.

Guess what sign was my beautiful devil – delusion.

Zavela