Dreams : Wayde

Wayde sat on the sofa in his apartment. Watching the baseball game, on a night in June. He always watched when the Yankees and the Red Sox played. But there was another reason that he watched. Although he couldn’t quite explain it. And he tried very hard to pretend it wasn’t there. See. Wayde had this feeling, deep inside, that something was horribly wrong with his live. Something just wasn’t right. And that feeling always scared him. So he’d learned to fill his life with activity. Working out. His daily trek to work. Keeping his apartment spotless. Hell, he even ironed his pants and shirts, just to get the wrinkles out.

But always. In the back of his mind, there was something nibbling away. Something wrong.

How could anything be wrong? He was the picture of success, at 27 years old, no less. He had his MBA. And he’d gotten a good job. Working for a financial firm in New York. He had his apartment. Sure it cost a bunch every month. But how many people have an apartment of their own, in a place like New York? He had a girl friend. Oh, yeah. And she was hot! She was a dancer, in one of the shows on Broadway. He had his BMW car. A 5 series no less. And electronic gadgets galore. An iMac, a Mac Book Pro, an iPhone, an iPod touch, and an iPad too. Just to name a few. For him, nothing but the best!

And still he couldn’t shake that feeling, buried deep inside, that something wasn’t right.

When the game came to its end, he was happy to see the Yankees win. And he grabbed his remote, and turned everything off with just one button push. He got up, and brushed his teeth. And made one last pit stop for the day. Then he went to bed. But found he couldn’t sleep. For the 5th night in a row, all he could do was lie there, on the bed. Underneath the covers. And stare at the patterns in the plaster of the bedroom’s textured ceiling.

Why couldn’t he sleep? Not that it really mattered. He had to get some sleep, so he would be awake at work the next day. So, he got up, and went to his medicine cabinet, and pulled out his Lunesta, and took a dose. “Bedtime!” And off he went.

Just for good measure, he grabbed his iPod, and turned it on, and plugged its ear plugs into his ears. So he could listen to some of the music that he’d collected. And as he laid there, on his bed, underneath the covers, with his eyes closed, waiting for the drug to send him off to sleep, he listened to one of the prettiest songs he knew of. One he could listen to again, and again. It never got old to him.

“Ah. Delain. See Me In Shadow. I love this song. It’s so emotional.” And in his mind, he pretended it was his girl friend singing the words just for him.

Standing in the shadow of our lies
To hide our imperfections
Doing anything we can to hide
Eyes wide open but still blind
To see what really matters
And insecurity won’t go
See me in shadows

Standing by the ruins of your soul
That cries for some more meaning
Wondering when you have
Become so cold

So cold
And all the pictures of your past are gone
So cold, so cold
Forget yourself
And who you are
Another life is not that far

Wayde always wondered why, when he listened to this song, he cried. Every time. He couldn’t understand that. It was such a pretty song. He told his girl friend that it touched his heart. What ever the hell that meant. All he knew was that he liked it. And when he told her that it touched his heart, she always gave him this monster kiss. Tongue and all. And that usually lead to other things…

Standing by the paintings of your dreams
But you have awoken
And all the purples and the greens
Have turned to black
And the ruins of your soul
Have died, no more meaning
I wonder when you have
Become so cold

So cold
And all the pictures of your past are gone
So cold, so cold
Forget yourself
And who you are
Another life is not that far

Not that far…
Not that far…

As the Lunesta kicked in, Wayde felt himself begin to drop off to sleep. And wondered if he’d wake up to the sound of music on his iPod where he’d slept with his ear plugs stuffed in his ears all night, once again. But the drug had done it’s job. He didn’t have that feeling in the back of his head any more. You know the one. The one that told him something was wrong. That one was gone. And now, everything was OK once more. And he could sleep peacefully.

And as he faded off to sleep, he heard the words of that song he liked so much once more.

Standing in the shadow of our lies
To hide our imperfections
Doing anything we can to hide
Eyes wide open but still blind
To see what really matters
And insecurity won’t go
See me in shadows

Standing by the ruins of your soul
That cries for some more meaning
Wondering when you have
Become so cold

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