There aren’t enough words…

I told him.

He looked at

me with a

smile that radiated

warmth. He took

my hand and

I felt that

warmth from him

pass into me.

There doesn’t have to be words. I know how you feel in here.

He pointed to

his heart. Then

to his eyes.

I see it, every time I look at you.

I know, I feel the same way.

I said. However,

he could see

that I still

wanted to find

the words. It

was what I

did. I was

always able to

describe the indescribable.

With him, I

found words lacking.

Tell me what you would say. Not with words, but with emotions.

I thought that

to be an

impossible task. He

could see that

I was having

trouble trying to

put into words

that which I

couldn’t describe. He

took my hand.

Just try.

He said softly.

For me.

I nodded and

tried to picture

what he made

me feel like.

I saw warm

sun shining on

my skin, bright

like the warmth

that he filled

me with. I

opened my eyes

and saw nothing

had change. He

took my other

hand and smiled.

You have to give life to what you see. Use your imagination.

I opened my

mouth to respond

and a ball

of light slipped

out of my

mouth. It floated

between us for

a moment before

rising to the

sky, filling the

world around us

with light. He

smiled at me.

There, I knew you could do it. What else do you see?

I thought of

how he was

like the breeze

flowing through the

trees, how just

the touch of

him made me

feel alive. Around

us, shoots began

to slide out

of the grass,

forming a circle

of trees around

us. He laughed

at this and

the sound was

like music to

my ears. He

moved closer to

me, put his

arm around me.

What else?

I thought of

how his love

for me filled

my heart with

song. I heard

the flutter of

wings and we

looked up into

the branches of

the trees and

they were filled

with birds of

ever shape and

colour. They sang

sweetly to us,

a melody that

made my body

lighter. He kissed

me, softly and

looked at me,

so deep that

I thought I

could see his

soul, as if

his eyes were

windows or doorways.

You’re perfect.

I shook my

head, letting out

a laugh that

was it’s own

kind of music.

I’m far from perfect.

You’re perfect to me and I love all of you.

I let out

a happy sigh

and that turned

into a wind

that set the

leaves moving. The

sound was like

bells ringing and

I kissed him

amongst the music

of bells and

When I first

knew what I

was, the secret

inside of me,

I was at

university, a world

away from home.

We were in

the unicentre cafeteria,

a whole group

of us. We all

rotated around one

girl, Sheenagh. She

was our light.

I sat next

to her and

she could tell

that something was

bothering me. Artists,

whether into literature,

music or theatre

can always sense

discontent. She

gave me one

of her patented

Sheenagh looks, where

you wondered what

she would say.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you on your man rag?”

She gave me

a Sheenagh smile,

and her brightness

increased. I wanted

to shine just

as brightly as

she did, but

for now, I

was content to

be in her

orbit. I struggled

with the words

I had to

say, words that

I had been

holding in for

as long as

I could remember.

I was nearly

shaking. Sheenagh

saw this and

put a hand

on my arm.

“What is it, honey? Don’t be afraid of what you need to say.”

I swallowed thickly.

“I think I’m gay.”

The world did

not stop and

no one ran

screaming from the

building. She laughed.

“Oh honey, I don’t think you’re gay. I know you are. Say it again. Own those words and be proud of who you are.”

I nodded and

gathered my voice.

“I’m gay.”

She laughed again,

the sound like

a tinkle of

bells being caressed

by water. Sheenagh

touched my cheek.

“You’re so serious. It’s not a serious thing, it’s a glorious thing, becoming yourself. Am I the first person you’ve told?”

I nodded again.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m honoured. What’s your favourite animal?”

I though about

it for a

moment. It had

been cows up

until recently, but

lately, Wolves had

been entering my

dreams at night.

“Wolves.”

I said, smiling.

“There now. We have to celebrate your freedom!”

“My freedom?”

“Yes! You’re free from your past and your life begins now!”

She stood up

on her chair

and then got

onto the table.

She raised her

arms up in

the air and

spoke in a

loud voice that

carried through the

whole unicentre cafeteria.

“I am a bisexual moose!”

I expected the

others to laugh,

for the crowd

around us to

tell us to

shut up, for

someone to complain.

Instead, one of

the other people

who orbited around

Sheenagh, another artist

named Jackie, stood

up, and proclaimed:

“I am a lesbian porpoise!”

Others were getting

into the spirit

of things, climbing

onto their tables

and proclaiming what

they were for

everyone to hear.

“I am a gay lion”

“I am a lesbian tiger!”

“I am a bisexual bear!”

“I am a straight fish!”

“I am a lesbian gorilla!”
“I am a gay tortoise!”

“I am an asexual dog!”

“I am a straight cat!”

“I am a gay chinchilla!”

“I am a lesbian cougar!”

I was the

last one, the

only one who

hadn’t stood up

on the table

and proclaimed to

the world who

and what I

was. Sheenagh held

out her hand

to me, smiling.

“It’s your turn honey. Shine bright and do not be afraid of who you are.”

I stood and

climbed up onto

my chair, I

took her hand

and got up

onto the table.

“I am a gay Wolf.”

I said quietly.

“Oh, no, honey. You have to yell it. Wolves aren’t quiet like mice, they howl at the moon! You have to howl it honey, howl!”

“I AM A GAY WOLF!”

I screamed. Tears

were sliding down

my cheeks and

I felt a

moment of release,

of weightlessness. I

looked at Sheenagh

and she was

shining bright like

the sun she

was. She looked

at me with

eyes that were

so incredibly wise.

“There now. That wasn’t so hard, was it? I’m proud of you, my little Wolf.”

Everyone around us

began clapping and

cheering. In that

moment, I was

free. After university,

I never saw

Sheenagh again, but

I’ve followed her

example and have

continued shining brightly.

I hadn’t slept

in days. I

would lay awake

at night, waiting

for sleep to

come, but it

wouldn’t. I would

take warm baths,

drink herbal tea,

but sleep still

eluded me. It

had been seven

days since I

had known sleeps

embrace and I

was starting to

lose it, even

though I didn’t

know what “it”

was. I started

to see things,

objects and people

that couldn’t possibly

be there, while

I was awake.

The shadows of

the waking dreams

moved along my

bedroom walls, along

the sidewalks,

showed their reflections

upon store windows.

The mirror people

would glare at

me as I

passed by, watching

me, almost as

if they were

measuring my worth.

The mannequins would

move closer to

the windows, hoping

to catch a

glimpse of me

though the reflections

that shouldn’t be

there but were.

Then the unthinkable

happened. In bed

one night, waiting

hoping, praying for

sleep, I watched

as the shadows

moved and slithered.

They whispered as

they moved along

the walls. I

watched them as

they shaped themselves

into an arch

of branches. There

were thorns running

along them. Even

though they were

merely shadows, I

knew they would

draw blood. In

front of the

arch was a

sign that merely

said three words:

Sleep, This Way.

I knew I

would have to

walk through the

arch. I gathered

up my courage

and walked through

the thorns. Breathing

deeply, I did

so, feeling the

bite and caress

of the thorns

and brambles. There

was darkness for

a moment, just

for a second and

the smell of

sweat and age,

rot and filth.

When my eyes

cleared, I found

myself in an

alley. There was

but one light

that hung high

up on one

wall, flickering like

a candle flame.

I could see

shadows along the

ground, shapes that

I knew were

other people. I

wondered if any

of them were

the reflections, the

dream people that

had watched me.

I walked down

the alley, the

arch of thorns

having disappeared. Several

of these shapes

called out to

to me in

gruff, angry voices,

men and women,

the lost people.

“I didn’t do what they said. You gotta believe me. I didn’t.”

“I need a drink real bad, just one drink. Any drink.”

“I used to be so pretty, so pretty. I could have my pick of men.”

“I didn’t mean to kill her, but she was asking for it. So was he.”

“You gotta wear a foil hat, man. Otherwise they can hear your thoughts. “

“I’m so hungry. Spare a bite to eat?”

I walked on,

faster, faster, faster.

The alley and

the forgotten went

on forever and

my footsteps were

loud in the

darkness, each step

a crunch of

gravel, glass or

stone, each grab

of their arms

like the thorns

on the arch

I had walked

though to get

here. I pulled

myself away and

broke into a

run, trying to

find the end

of the alley.

The light was

flickering madly off

of the brick

walls and there

was no ending

in sight that

I could see.

Then, in front

of me, a

shadow person stood,

detaching himself from

the mass of moving

thorn people. He

held out his

hands, telling me

to stop without

words. I tried

to run past

him, but he

grabbed hold of

me, held tight

until I stopped

struggling. The entire

time it took

me to calm

down he was

talking to me:

“It’s okay man, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, I’m not going to hurt you. It’s okay.”

I stopped and

looked at him.

He was grimy

and covered in

filth like the

rest of them

but there was

clarity in his

face. He smiled

at me and,

despite my fear,

I smiled back.

“You’re going about this all wrong, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

My voice echoed

off the walls.

“You can keep running forever, if you want to. Makes no difference to me.”

“What else can I do?”

“Well, you can focus on the person who’s dreaming of you for starters.”

“But I’m not sleeping.”

“I know. Legend says that when you can’t sleep, someone else is dreaming about you and you’re awake in that person’s dream.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Does any of this?”

He motioned around

us at the

walls and the

flickering light, at

the mass of

shadows that were

people. He gave

me another grin.

“This is where your nightmares come from. Dreams don’t make any sense. They are pieces of our life we’ve already lived.”

I found myself

nodding, knowing he

was speaking truth.

“So what do I do? How do I leave this place?”

“Well now, that’s simple. You have to focus on the person who’s dreaming of you and go to them.”

“I can do that?”

“Sure. It’s your dream, isn’t it?”

I turned around

in a circle,

looking at the

shadows. I turned

back to the

man, his eyes

bright and his

smile warm, comforting.

“How do I find the other person? I don’t know how to get back the way I came.”

“You wouldn’t want to. No, your way to him is simple. See that light?”

He pointed to

the light, the

only source of

brightness in amongst

all the shadows.

“That’s him. He’s been watching over you all this time, you know. Even in the darkest of times, he’s there.”

“How do I go to him?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet? Close your eyes, think on the light. Don’t think about anything else. Go towards the light.”

“Is that like dying?”

He shook his

head back and

forth, laughing and

smiling at me.

“Well, they do call sleep the little death.”

He said, thoughtfully.

“This is a dream, not some horror movie. Some dreams end and some dreams become a reality. That’s the great thing. So just focus on the light, nothing else.”

I did as

he said and

closed my eyes.

I thought of

the light, pictured

it growing brighter.

I could see

the brightness

of the light

growing, even with

my eyes closed,

could even begin

to feel the

heat of it

on my face.

Soon, the fetid

air disappeared and

was replaced with

the smell of

a spicy cologne

and the scent

of honeysuckle. I

heard movement as

someone moved towards

me. I would

not be afraid.

A voice said:

“Open your eyes.”

I did and

saw him and

the feeling of

the light upon

my face flowed

through my whole

body. The light

came from him.

“I dreamt of you.”

He said. I

smiled at him.

“I know.”

I said softly.

Then words weren’t

necessary. There was

only me, only

him, only us

and the gorgeous

possibility of dream.

My heart was

unable to speak.

It would look

at other people

in love and

wonder what they

were saying to

each other without

speaking. What kind

of unknown language

passed between them?

I despaired of

ever finding someone

who loved me

deeply enough to

speak without speaking,

to touch my

heart with a

simple caress. That

changed when I

met you. The

love between us

grew slowly, starting

as a seed

that was planted

in my heart

the moment we

first kissed. It

was nurtured with

every endearment and

each caress. When

the flower bloomed,

filling me completely,

I heard a

soft buzzing, felt

a throb of

vibration as my

heart began to

respond to yours.

Now, when you

touched me, it

was like you

touched my heart.

Now when you

spoke to me,

it was as

if you spoke

to my soul.

At first, I

was terrified. What

was this unknown

language? What did

it all mean?

You took my

face in your

hands and looked

right into me.

“Don’t be afraid.”

You said to

me. At those

words, my fear

fell away and

a series of

words I had

not known began

to show themselves

appearing as if

something was rubbed

away and the

words were there

the entire time.

All they needed

was someone to

help me see

them. Now when

you look at

me, the words

from the unknown

language become known

all over again.

All it took

was your love

to set the

words, and myself,

free.