Ghostly-Spectre
Active Member
~BBW, Romance, ~SWG -- A lonely traveler meets the companion of his dreams
It was just about the time I boarded the train that I pieced together the quintessential reason for human suffering. The struggle between what people desire and the realities of their lives must be the cause.
At least, I thought that was it. A compulsive gambler wishes to always win, but he fails to do so. A perfectionist needs to be satisfied, yet they never will. And I desired companionship, though that too was near impossible.
It was this thought that helped ruin the start of what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. That old saying – when one is hungry, everyone looks like lemon custard, or however it goes – proved itself to me then, as it did often.
Loneliness, my particular affliction, affected all areas of my perception. The kissing couple in the seat ahead of me? An unpleasant reminder of my love life, or lack thereof. The couple fighting in the seat behind me? Proof that even if I did find a relationship, I still might not be completely happy. That woman who refused to acknowledge me on the way in? A testament to my own unappealing nature. The cute attendee that smiled at me as I got to my seat? Just a company policy of friendliness. She wouldn’t smile at me unless she was paid to do it.
There are, of course, many people who suffer as I do, or worse. And there are many different methods they employ to help ease their suffering. There is alcohol, drugs, self-mutilation, fervent religious belief, reckless risk-seeking, and binge eating. My favored method of dealing with the pain of reality was simply distracting myself from it. No, not distracting myself from the pain, distracting myself from reality. In moments of inner reflection, I can contemplate life and how it progresses from the perspective of an outsider. The pain and injustice of the world appears only theoretical as I distance myself from anything that exists outside the boundaries of my mind. Meanwhile, the time I spend in my head distracts me from noticing anything else disturbing the world around me.
I gave that world a cautious glance, not desiring to draw too much of it in. Ah, time for our servers to bring us our evening meal. I barely noticed the food as I thought about where the silverware was made. Perhaps China. If so, it was almost certainly made under labor conditions that were questionable at best viewed from a first-world country’s perspective. Were the workers resentful or were they pleased that they had some form of employment, even a poor one? Should a U.S. company that hires Chinese workers be responsible for complying with both Chinese and U.S. labor laws? Would China restrict trade to America if we were to enact such a policy? How much would that impact our economy?
This was a waste of my time, as everything was. But even as I was on vacation, even as I had mastery over my own mind and my own personal state of affairs, I was unhappy. Part of me had been unhappy so long that it was simply accepted. It was simply an unavoidable infection, like a reoccurring cancer or a cold sore on the lip.
After my meal, I train in vain to sleep. The demons of insomnia tormented me often, and this appeared to be no exception.
~
A sudden jolt awakened me from my slumber. The seat of the train appeared to be giving way from under me, and before I could react, I fell through the floor and onto the tracks. Like an angry beast, the train roared over me, barely missing my fortunately thin frame. A few moments later, and the train was gone.
Still shaken and in pain, I pulled myself to my feet to discover that there was no sight of civilization. There were a few faded green trees on the hills, and the trail of tracks ahead of me and behind. Aside from that, everything was buried.
It was as if a great, Asian Tsunami had wandered off course, discovered the climate of North America, and perished before it had the chance to turn back. There wasn’t so much snowfall as there was simply a wall of snow that began several feet below where I stood. As it was still falling, the wall appeared to reach towards the sky, obstructing my vision and my breath. Without any supplies or snow gear, the walls of snow had me trapped. I knew I’d almost certainly be unable to move within a few minutes and perish within a few hours.
At the time, it did not occur to me that my typical miserable self would take some small amount of pleasure in the end of my suffering. All I wanted then was to live, to feel warm air in my lungs, to somehow find deliverance. Not being a religious man, I took no comfort in prayer, though I did attempt to stand and walk as far as I could before I fell.
Although the pain was excruciating, I did not feel myself losing strength as I slowly trudged through the tundra. A few yards later, I was musing the final signs of hypothermia when I saw her.
A woman was standing on a bank of snow, her hands placed firmly on her hips in a show of defiance. More startling than the appearance of another human being was her attire: she was dressed in skimpy, summer clothes, barely covering her flesh. Yet, her cheeks were not rosy with the cold, and as I approached nearer, her flesh was not wrinkled in goosebumps. She was almost painfully thin, her ribs and shoulders pinching and pulling her artificially tan skin.
“What’s the matter?” she asked with an air of condescension. “Can’t make it out here?” I felt too stunned to answer. We were dying, or at least I was, and her one thought is to mock me?
I quickly put my pride aside and realized that I had to find some way of emulating this woman’s cold-resistant secret if I was to survive. I took a deep breath and tried to shout a response to her, despite the fact that her soft voice had strangely no trouble permeating the storm.
“Whatever you’re doing to keep yourself warm, I want to do it!” The mysterious woman tossed her head back and cackled. Her laugh was both softly feminine and sinisterly malicious, and sent a stronger chill down my spine than the cold.
“What makes you think I’m surviving any better you?” I pondered the statement, and the impossible situation at hand. Before I could reach any reasonable explanation, she spoke again. “Do you really think I can save you? I’m not smart, I’m not nice, but beauty, well…”
I shook my head. “No, you could not save me. Nor do you possess beauty of any kind.” She nodded slowly, her thin lips creasing in a smile.
“Perhaps, then, there is a different girl in this snowstorm who will save you.” With that statement, she hung her head and hunched her shoulders sullenly. For a moment, there was a flash of light, and although I was physically still standing only a few feet from her, I felt as if she was fading away.
As my eyes adjusted, I noticed that her complexion was quickly changing, first becoming nearly as pale and wan as the snow, then becoming faintly red with the cold. Her main of hair changed from peroxide blonde to a deep chocolate. Her tiny, diamond face become softer and more delicate.
The near-starved body of mainstream beauty also changed. Angular, protruding bones disappeared under a thin layer of healthy-looking flesh. A softer, rounder girl emerged, one perhaps still pretty in the eyes of most but now lacking the look of self-denial.
The changes did not stop there. The outfit that had clothed her earlier seemed to be replacing itself with baggier, bulkier clothes, which served both to better protect one from the cold and hide their body shape. And that shape was still in flux. The girl who only a few minutes ago could have modeled for a magazine now would only appear in a plus sized catalogue. The baggy jeans and sweatshirt she was now wearing prevented me from seeing exactly how big she was, but it was clear that she would probably be looked down upon by most at her current size.
My observation of her transformation suddenly ended as her eyes fluttered open. Darker eyes stared at me, from under darker, thicker eyebrows. Her posture was no longer confident, but now slouched and self conscious.
“Where are we? I’m so cold…” Her voice, now slightly deeper and far more serious sounding, was nevertheless far harder to hear over the roar of snow. As I prepared to answer her as best I could, I saw a cabin on the hills right behind her that I was certain wasn’t there before. I pointed to it and told her that we should get out of this weather quickly. As we walked, she stumbled, and I grabbed a hold of her hand to steady her balance.
We did not break the link until we were at the door of the small cabin, which surprisingly, knocked at us before we could knock on it.
~
“Sir? Sir? We have arrived.” My head jolted forwards, only to hit the roof of my cabin. I was back in the train, and the knocking door was the door to the train’s corridor.
I swore out loud, partly from the head pain but mainly because the dream was over. That dream would probably be the best thing that happened to me my entire trip, and now it was gone forever.
~
The name of my city was as irrelevant as the name of the company that provided me my pouch of peanuts during my travel towards it. It was small, and it was northern, and it was mine. Each winter I could count on not being bothered. Each winter, I could appreciate the natural beauty of the country environment, and I could find some small measure of inner peace.
This particular visit, however, was marred with feeling of unease and anxiety. My vivid dream had made me feel more lonely and troubled than ever, and the snow was nearing the levels of my dreamscape. It wasn’t until I was settled into my usual cabin that I was able to finally repel the cold, but that was replaced with a far deadlier emotion.
One additional motivation to getting away from the city was that it was a prime spot do some writing. I did academic articles for a few magazines on philosophy, and usually the silence helped me come up with ideas. The panicky, constrictive feeling of writer’s block was already taking hold of me, and I hadn’t even resided in my little dwelling for more than 30 minutes.
After a few more agonizing minutes, I decided to pay a visit to the chain coffee shop and receive some caffeine. Perhaps then I’d be able to snap myself out of it, I thought to myself.
~
It was at the coffee shop that it happened. After obtaining my cup of tea, I began to look for a place to sit down – and I saw her.
It wouldn’t be accurate to say that I saw her immediately. My eye caught her for a moment, and my mind registered a remarkably good looking woman for a few moments, and I moved on. Then, as if I was transported back to my dream, I realized that this was in fact the same woman.
Too afraid of, well, reality itself and its new nature, I timidly sat at the table nearest my current position and contented myself with only gazing at her. One sure sign of an insecure woman is when being eyed, she’ll always take a quick glace behind her, as she imagines there must be some beautiful woman directly behind her that’s being admired.
When I saw that she was preparing to leave, I finally summoned up my courage and curiosity. I made my way to her table, trying my best to seem nonchalant and friendly. In that aim, I’m almost certain that I failed.
“Hi, I’m Jason…noticed you were sitting alone, and thought you might want someone to talk to.” My voice sounded tight and false, but it was the best I could do.
“I’m Brandi…and…uh…” I decided to interrupt, hoping to pre-empt her untimely exit.
“I did notice thought that you seemed just about ready to go. I don’t want to keep you if you are in a hurry to get somewhere…is that what’s happening or do you have a few minutes to chat?” She shook her head, then sighed in apparent frustration.
“No, I mean, yeah I have time.” We chatted for a while, and my focus quickly became less on deciphering my dream and more on wanting to get to know Brandi. The dream could have been some kind of omen or prophecy, but the Brandi in front of me now was undeniably real.
There is a lot to be said for human interaction, when it works right. It brings happiness, hope, and inspiration. The emptiness inside seems to vanish, if only for a little while.
~
We met the next day, and the next, and the next. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Brandi was the kindest soul I had ever known. Never did I hear a word of anger or resentment leave her mouth. Never was there undeserved judgment or ill-will.
She was a high school English teacher, and astounded me with her intellectual prowess with literature and other forms of the written word. My writers block quickly vanished when she gave me a few inspiriting suggestions.
It was partly my respect and admiration for Brandi that kept me from asking her certain questions. There was nothing I feared more than somehow making a blunder and scaring her away. This fear was beaten back when I decided to finally tell her about the dream.
The morning was strangely warm, and the snow was slushy enough to trudge through with proper shoes. Brandi’s idea was to hike together to a scenic area, now that the weather was permitting it, at least for today.
“Brandi, can I make a somewhat unusual inquiry?” We had known each other only for about a week, but she was already able to pick up on some of my social cues. The tightness of my voice must have given it away, for she looked at me with a puzzled look for a second.
“Sure, go ahead, it’s your prerogative.” Under normal circumstances, I’d be basking in the glow of Brandi’s voice, which carried a rich, almost tonal quality. It was a slightly deep and sultry, but at the same time had a pleasant feminine lilt. Or, perhaps I’d enjoy the rarity of meeting another individual who used words like “prerogative” in casual conversation. At that moment, I was thinking about the dream and how to describe it.
“The night before first met, um…well…”
“Oh, yeah? I had wanted to discuss it earlier, I had a very remarkable dream.” I stared at her wide-eyed. “I found myself stranded on a hill, surrounded by a lake of magma. Every second, my island of dirt was getting smaller and smaller. As the lava got closer to me, I saw that it was carrying many dead bodies and I knew I would join them in the next few minutes.”
“What did you do?” I asked as she turned her head skyward.
“Well, I started looking up towards the sky, and there was a giant eagle soaring up there safely. I suddenly had a desire to follow him, and I jumped up in the air. I felt myself getting lighter and lighter, and I saw that I was transforming into a bird myself. The two of us soared above the lava, until we reached a small building in a nearby, unscathed forest. We started to become people again, but…I woke up.”
“That’s an amazing coincidence,” I began, “because I had a somewhat similar dream that same night.”
“Well, go ahead,” she said, and I tried my best to recount the events of my unconscious adventure.
~
“So you had exactly the opposite dream I had?”
I quickly shook my head. “How did you get that idea?”
“Well in my dream, to escape a dilemma, I had to make a positive transformation. In your dream, I made a negative one.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Jason. I started out pretty and ended up…like this. That’s about as negative as you can get.”
“No, it’s not. You’re very pretty.” At this, she loudly scoffed.
“Yah, right.” For a few moments, we trudged in silence, avoiding eye contact. “You want to see pretty? Look at this.” We stepped out of the cover of the trees, arriving at our destination.
A large canyon carved through the landscape below us, dotted green with trees under the white blanket of snow. The canopy stretched off into the horizon, almost as if the landscape was melting into the clouds and connecting to the sky itself.
“That…that is beautiful,” Brandi started with a tear in her eye. “I’ve been ugly my whole life.” I started to speak up, but she cut me off. “Jason, you’re a great guy and I’m glad I’ve finally met a man who’s liked my intelligence. But please stop with the fake compliments, ok? Everybody else sees the same thing that I do when I look in the mirror and most have let me know at some point.”
There was a small vantage point bench, and we parked ourselves on it. The air between us hung with a frostier chill than any brought about by the winter, and for quite a while, nobody said a word.
Eventually, I spoke up. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“No, it’s just…just a touchy subject with me,” Brandi said after she let out a sigh.
As I gazed at her, I felt a sudden need for are more personal, physical intimacy. Yes, she was attractive, but my feelings were far beyond that. I wanted to hold her when she needed to cry, or have her do the same for me in my times of need. I wished to wander around my house and know that if I wanted, I could run up to her and greet her with a loving embrace whenever I so desired. I yearned to appreciate, to cuddle, to love the warmth of her being.
What saddened me, and caused me to turn my head towards the distinctly less moving scenic view, was that I knew there would be impediments to this. She was, as of now, probably too uncomfortable with herself to allow someone else to feel good about her. She also was probably not all that interested in me, few girls, if any, ever had been. It struck me as inherently wrong and unjust that these problems should exist, because I had never found anyone quite like her. I knew that should we grow apart, my return to hopelessness might very well be a permanent one.
As I adjusted my posture, however, I saw her looking towards me, and perhaps a little too quickly turn her head away. I kept my eyes on her, waiting for her to look towards me again.
I wasn’t disappointed; she was staring at me again, and this time our eyes locked. There was a certain look of pleading within those deep, brown irises.
“Do you…” she stopped herself, then began again. “Do you really think I’m pretty? Just, be honest.”
“You’re amazing. You’re a rose in a desert. You’re an ember in the frost.” The fire I had alluded to began to show in her cheeks as her face flushed. At first, she choked back a small sob, then she smiled.
“Thanks. You’re the…well nobody…You’re cute too, by the way.” I scooted myself a bit closer to her. “You’re….you’re….well…” Our lips met before she could finish. I felt myself melt at the sensation of her soft lips upon mine, and my skin tingled as we kissed.
We pulled our arms around each other and pulled our bodies close as the kiss grew hungrier. My entire mouth felt glowing, and my mind felt on the verge of bursting with happiness.
When we broke the kiss, we were panting and giggling like kids. Our eyes locked together for a few more minutes, and then Brandi spoke.
“I was going to say you’re comet in an empty sky…but that doesn’t come close to doing you justice” I smiled, not my usual smile of politeness, nor my calculated smile of false happiness, but a rare, genuine smile. The corners of my mouth almost seemed to be buoyed up by recent events and unable to come back down.
~
There was a certain level of newfound confidence in Brandi from that day forward. It wasn’t just a brighter smile or a swing in her step. Her entire composure had changed. The old shame and hesitancy seemed gone, replaced with noticeable pride in herself. When I pointed this out to her, she mentioned how she had noticed a similar change in myself, though I certainly wouldn’t have ever guessed it on my own.
One night, at my cabin, her newfound confidence was expressed to me in a new way.
“You know, I’ve been thinking some more about that dream you had…tell me again about how my little metamorphosis was a good thing.” I started to talk about the different tastes of beauty, but she put her finger to my lips.
“No, Jason….” She walked towards me, and positioned her body close to mine. “Tell me why I’m…sexy.” I was silent for an awkward moment, not fully knowing what to say.
“I’ve felt embarrassed my whole life, but you’ve given me some looks the last few days…and, I like it.” I barely knew where to begin, but I could try.
“You’re sexy because you’re soft, perfect to hug, to cuddle, to caress…” As I said those words, her tank top came off, revealing her large breasts straining her braw and her gentle looking tummy spilling over her pants. As she stepped even closer to me, I noticed her shoulders were slightly wider than mine. “You’re also sexy because you’re strong…you’re bigger than me, your frame is larger than mine…you have a strong mind…strength is sexy, too.”
“You know what’s sexy about you?” She undid the clasps of her bra, and her large breasts bounced free. “You’re able to admit all that…most guys aren’t into their feelings at all, especially not those kind.”
My eyes, still mesmerized by her bosom, didn’t notice her hands moving towards my shirt. Quickly, she ripped it open, and then discarded it.
“Your body, too…sexy…” I was pretty thin for a man, and didn’t see myself what was sexy about it. “A buff guy carries so much stigma of aggression and anger…but a skinny guy…he’s cute…masculine, but vulnerable.”
We met in a kiss, not innocent or magical like our first, but almost feral and animalistic. My hands started to cup her bountiful breasts, and as I gently pinched her nipple, she slightly bit down on my lower lip.
We almost tripped and fell in mutual surprise, but we quickly made our way to the bedroom and started to rapidly remove the rest of our clothes. Our bodies rolled together, and her feminine softness pressing down upon me was indescribably blissful. Time seemed to blur as we made love, and when it was over, we were holding each other and crying with joy.
No further words needed to be spoken. I started to fall asleep in the arms of my Goddess, completely content for the first time in my life. I knew then that I never would leave her, that nothing would ever destroy our bond.
These are the moments of possibility, I now realize, that are the embers in the frost of life of which one truly dreams. They are the moments that one desires feverishly in moments of bleakest despair. They seem impossible, and yet, we know they are not in our hearts. They are the dreams capable of becoming reality that make the rest of life worth living.
As I now enjoy life with my Goddess I cry out to my fellow mortals, "Let us never surrender these dreams, for they are all that is good within us and our existence."
Embers in the Frost
by Ghostly Spectre
by Ghostly Spectre
It was just about the time I boarded the train that I pieced together the quintessential reason for human suffering. The struggle between what people desire and the realities of their lives must be the cause.
At least, I thought that was it. A compulsive gambler wishes to always win, but he fails to do so. A perfectionist needs to be satisfied, yet they never will. And I desired companionship, though that too was near impossible.
It was this thought that helped ruin the start of what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. That old saying – when one is hungry, everyone looks like lemon custard, or however it goes – proved itself to me then, as it did often.
Loneliness, my particular affliction, affected all areas of my perception. The kissing couple in the seat ahead of me? An unpleasant reminder of my love life, or lack thereof. The couple fighting in the seat behind me? Proof that even if I did find a relationship, I still might not be completely happy. That woman who refused to acknowledge me on the way in? A testament to my own unappealing nature. The cute attendee that smiled at me as I got to my seat? Just a company policy of friendliness. She wouldn’t smile at me unless she was paid to do it.
There are, of course, many people who suffer as I do, or worse. And there are many different methods they employ to help ease their suffering. There is alcohol, drugs, self-mutilation, fervent religious belief, reckless risk-seeking, and binge eating. My favored method of dealing with the pain of reality was simply distracting myself from it. No, not distracting myself from the pain, distracting myself from reality. In moments of inner reflection, I can contemplate life and how it progresses from the perspective of an outsider. The pain and injustice of the world appears only theoretical as I distance myself from anything that exists outside the boundaries of my mind. Meanwhile, the time I spend in my head distracts me from noticing anything else disturbing the world around me.
I gave that world a cautious glance, not desiring to draw too much of it in. Ah, time for our servers to bring us our evening meal. I barely noticed the food as I thought about where the silverware was made. Perhaps China. If so, it was almost certainly made under labor conditions that were questionable at best viewed from a first-world country’s perspective. Were the workers resentful or were they pleased that they had some form of employment, even a poor one? Should a U.S. company that hires Chinese workers be responsible for complying with both Chinese and U.S. labor laws? Would China restrict trade to America if we were to enact such a policy? How much would that impact our economy?
This was a waste of my time, as everything was. But even as I was on vacation, even as I had mastery over my own mind and my own personal state of affairs, I was unhappy. Part of me had been unhappy so long that it was simply accepted. It was simply an unavoidable infection, like a reoccurring cancer or a cold sore on the lip.
After my meal, I train in vain to sleep. The demons of insomnia tormented me often, and this appeared to be no exception.
~
A sudden jolt awakened me from my slumber. The seat of the train appeared to be giving way from under me, and before I could react, I fell through the floor and onto the tracks. Like an angry beast, the train roared over me, barely missing my fortunately thin frame. A few moments later, and the train was gone.
Still shaken and in pain, I pulled myself to my feet to discover that there was no sight of civilization. There were a few faded green trees on the hills, and the trail of tracks ahead of me and behind. Aside from that, everything was buried.
It was as if a great, Asian Tsunami had wandered off course, discovered the climate of North America, and perished before it had the chance to turn back. There wasn’t so much snowfall as there was simply a wall of snow that began several feet below where I stood. As it was still falling, the wall appeared to reach towards the sky, obstructing my vision and my breath. Without any supplies or snow gear, the walls of snow had me trapped. I knew I’d almost certainly be unable to move within a few minutes and perish within a few hours.
At the time, it did not occur to me that my typical miserable self would take some small amount of pleasure in the end of my suffering. All I wanted then was to live, to feel warm air in my lungs, to somehow find deliverance. Not being a religious man, I took no comfort in prayer, though I did attempt to stand and walk as far as I could before I fell.
Although the pain was excruciating, I did not feel myself losing strength as I slowly trudged through the tundra. A few yards later, I was musing the final signs of hypothermia when I saw her.
A woman was standing on a bank of snow, her hands placed firmly on her hips in a show of defiance. More startling than the appearance of another human being was her attire: she was dressed in skimpy, summer clothes, barely covering her flesh. Yet, her cheeks were not rosy with the cold, and as I approached nearer, her flesh was not wrinkled in goosebumps. She was almost painfully thin, her ribs and shoulders pinching and pulling her artificially tan skin.
“What’s the matter?” she asked with an air of condescension. “Can’t make it out here?” I felt too stunned to answer. We were dying, or at least I was, and her one thought is to mock me?
I quickly put my pride aside and realized that I had to find some way of emulating this woman’s cold-resistant secret if I was to survive. I took a deep breath and tried to shout a response to her, despite the fact that her soft voice had strangely no trouble permeating the storm.
“Whatever you’re doing to keep yourself warm, I want to do it!” The mysterious woman tossed her head back and cackled. Her laugh was both softly feminine and sinisterly malicious, and sent a stronger chill down my spine than the cold.
“What makes you think I’m surviving any better you?” I pondered the statement, and the impossible situation at hand. Before I could reach any reasonable explanation, she spoke again. “Do you really think I can save you? I’m not smart, I’m not nice, but beauty, well…”
I shook my head. “No, you could not save me. Nor do you possess beauty of any kind.” She nodded slowly, her thin lips creasing in a smile.
“Perhaps, then, there is a different girl in this snowstorm who will save you.” With that statement, she hung her head and hunched her shoulders sullenly. For a moment, there was a flash of light, and although I was physically still standing only a few feet from her, I felt as if she was fading away.
As my eyes adjusted, I noticed that her complexion was quickly changing, first becoming nearly as pale and wan as the snow, then becoming faintly red with the cold. Her main of hair changed from peroxide blonde to a deep chocolate. Her tiny, diamond face become softer and more delicate.
The near-starved body of mainstream beauty also changed. Angular, protruding bones disappeared under a thin layer of healthy-looking flesh. A softer, rounder girl emerged, one perhaps still pretty in the eyes of most but now lacking the look of self-denial.
The changes did not stop there. The outfit that had clothed her earlier seemed to be replacing itself with baggier, bulkier clothes, which served both to better protect one from the cold and hide their body shape. And that shape was still in flux. The girl who only a few minutes ago could have modeled for a magazine now would only appear in a plus sized catalogue. The baggy jeans and sweatshirt she was now wearing prevented me from seeing exactly how big she was, but it was clear that she would probably be looked down upon by most at her current size.
My observation of her transformation suddenly ended as her eyes fluttered open. Darker eyes stared at me, from under darker, thicker eyebrows. Her posture was no longer confident, but now slouched and self conscious.
“Where are we? I’m so cold…” Her voice, now slightly deeper and far more serious sounding, was nevertheless far harder to hear over the roar of snow. As I prepared to answer her as best I could, I saw a cabin on the hills right behind her that I was certain wasn’t there before. I pointed to it and told her that we should get out of this weather quickly. As we walked, she stumbled, and I grabbed a hold of her hand to steady her balance.
We did not break the link until we were at the door of the small cabin, which surprisingly, knocked at us before we could knock on it.
~
“Sir? Sir? We have arrived.” My head jolted forwards, only to hit the roof of my cabin. I was back in the train, and the knocking door was the door to the train’s corridor.
I swore out loud, partly from the head pain but mainly because the dream was over. That dream would probably be the best thing that happened to me my entire trip, and now it was gone forever.
~
The name of my city was as irrelevant as the name of the company that provided me my pouch of peanuts during my travel towards it. It was small, and it was northern, and it was mine. Each winter I could count on not being bothered. Each winter, I could appreciate the natural beauty of the country environment, and I could find some small measure of inner peace.
This particular visit, however, was marred with feeling of unease and anxiety. My vivid dream had made me feel more lonely and troubled than ever, and the snow was nearing the levels of my dreamscape. It wasn’t until I was settled into my usual cabin that I was able to finally repel the cold, but that was replaced with a far deadlier emotion.
One additional motivation to getting away from the city was that it was a prime spot do some writing. I did academic articles for a few magazines on philosophy, and usually the silence helped me come up with ideas. The panicky, constrictive feeling of writer’s block was already taking hold of me, and I hadn’t even resided in my little dwelling for more than 30 minutes.
After a few more agonizing minutes, I decided to pay a visit to the chain coffee shop and receive some caffeine. Perhaps then I’d be able to snap myself out of it, I thought to myself.
~
It was at the coffee shop that it happened. After obtaining my cup of tea, I began to look for a place to sit down – and I saw her.
It wouldn’t be accurate to say that I saw her immediately. My eye caught her for a moment, and my mind registered a remarkably good looking woman for a few moments, and I moved on. Then, as if I was transported back to my dream, I realized that this was in fact the same woman.
Too afraid of, well, reality itself and its new nature, I timidly sat at the table nearest my current position and contented myself with only gazing at her. One sure sign of an insecure woman is when being eyed, she’ll always take a quick glace behind her, as she imagines there must be some beautiful woman directly behind her that’s being admired.
When I saw that she was preparing to leave, I finally summoned up my courage and curiosity. I made my way to her table, trying my best to seem nonchalant and friendly. In that aim, I’m almost certain that I failed.
“Hi, I’m Jason…noticed you were sitting alone, and thought you might want someone to talk to.” My voice sounded tight and false, but it was the best I could do.
“I’m Brandi…and…uh…” I decided to interrupt, hoping to pre-empt her untimely exit.
“I did notice thought that you seemed just about ready to go. I don’t want to keep you if you are in a hurry to get somewhere…is that what’s happening or do you have a few minutes to chat?” She shook her head, then sighed in apparent frustration.
“No, I mean, yeah I have time.” We chatted for a while, and my focus quickly became less on deciphering my dream and more on wanting to get to know Brandi. The dream could have been some kind of omen or prophecy, but the Brandi in front of me now was undeniably real.
There is a lot to be said for human interaction, when it works right. It brings happiness, hope, and inspiration. The emptiness inside seems to vanish, if only for a little while.
~
We met the next day, and the next, and the next. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Brandi was the kindest soul I had ever known. Never did I hear a word of anger or resentment leave her mouth. Never was there undeserved judgment or ill-will.
She was a high school English teacher, and astounded me with her intellectual prowess with literature and other forms of the written word. My writers block quickly vanished when she gave me a few inspiriting suggestions.
It was partly my respect and admiration for Brandi that kept me from asking her certain questions. There was nothing I feared more than somehow making a blunder and scaring her away. This fear was beaten back when I decided to finally tell her about the dream.
The morning was strangely warm, and the snow was slushy enough to trudge through with proper shoes. Brandi’s idea was to hike together to a scenic area, now that the weather was permitting it, at least for today.
“Brandi, can I make a somewhat unusual inquiry?” We had known each other only for about a week, but she was already able to pick up on some of my social cues. The tightness of my voice must have given it away, for she looked at me with a puzzled look for a second.
“Sure, go ahead, it’s your prerogative.” Under normal circumstances, I’d be basking in the glow of Brandi’s voice, which carried a rich, almost tonal quality. It was a slightly deep and sultry, but at the same time had a pleasant feminine lilt. Or, perhaps I’d enjoy the rarity of meeting another individual who used words like “prerogative” in casual conversation. At that moment, I was thinking about the dream and how to describe it.
“The night before first met, um…well…”
“Oh, yeah? I had wanted to discuss it earlier, I had a very remarkable dream.” I stared at her wide-eyed. “I found myself stranded on a hill, surrounded by a lake of magma. Every second, my island of dirt was getting smaller and smaller. As the lava got closer to me, I saw that it was carrying many dead bodies and I knew I would join them in the next few minutes.”
“What did you do?” I asked as she turned her head skyward.
“Well, I started looking up towards the sky, and there was a giant eagle soaring up there safely. I suddenly had a desire to follow him, and I jumped up in the air. I felt myself getting lighter and lighter, and I saw that I was transforming into a bird myself. The two of us soared above the lava, until we reached a small building in a nearby, unscathed forest. We started to become people again, but…I woke up.”
“That’s an amazing coincidence,” I began, “because I had a somewhat similar dream that same night.”
“Well, go ahead,” she said, and I tried my best to recount the events of my unconscious adventure.
~
“So you had exactly the opposite dream I had?”
I quickly shook my head. “How did you get that idea?”
“Well in my dream, to escape a dilemma, I had to make a positive transformation. In your dream, I made a negative one.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Jason. I started out pretty and ended up…like this. That’s about as negative as you can get.”
“No, it’s not. You’re very pretty.” At this, she loudly scoffed.
“Yah, right.” For a few moments, we trudged in silence, avoiding eye contact. “You want to see pretty? Look at this.” We stepped out of the cover of the trees, arriving at our destination.
A large canyon carved through the landscape below us, dotted green with trees under the white blanket of snow. The canopy stretched off into the horizon, almost as if the landscape was melting into the clouds and connecting to the sky itself.
“That…that is beautiful,” Brandi started with a tear in her eye. “I’ve been ugly my whole life.” I started to speak up, but she cut me off. “Jason, you’re a great guy and I’m glad I’ve finally met a man who’s liked my intelligence. But please stop with the fake compliments, ok? Everybody else sees the same thing that I do when I look in the mirror and most have let me know at some point.”
There was a small vantage point bench, and we parked ourselves on it. The air between us hung with a frostier chill than any brought about by the winter, and for quite a while, nobody said a word.
Eventually, I spoke up. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“No, it’s just…just a touchy subject with me,” Brandi said after she let out a sigh.
As I gazed at her, I felt a sudden need for are more personal, physical intimacy. Yes, she was attractive, but my feelings were far beyond that. I wanted to hold her when she needed to cry, or have her do the same for me in my times of need. I wished to wander around my house and know that if I wanted, I could run up to her and greet her with a loving embrace whenever I so desired. I yearned to appreciate, to cuddle, to love the warmth of her being.
What saddened me, and caused me to turn my head towards the distinctly less moving scenic view, was that I knew there would be impediments to this. She was, as of now, probably too uncomfortable with herself to allow someone else to feel good about her. She also was probably not all that interested in me, few girls, if any, ever had been. It struck me as inherently wrong and unjust that these problems should exist, because I had never found anyone quite like her. I knew that should we grow apart, my return to hopelessness might very well be a permanent one.
As I adjusted my posture, however, I saw her looking towards me, and perhaps a little too quickly turn her head away. I kept my eyes on her, waiting for her to look towards me again.
I wasn’t disappointed; she was staring at me again, and this time our eyes locked. There was a certain look of pleading within those deep, brown irises.
“Do you…” she stopped herself, then began again. “Do you really think I’m pretty? Just, be honest.”
“You’re amazing. You’re a rose in a desert. You’re an ember in the frost.” The fire I had alluded to began to show in her cheeks as her face flushed. At first, she choked back a small sob, then she smiled.
“Thanks. You’re the…well nobody…You’re cute too, by the way.” I scooted myself a bit closer to her. “You’re….you’re….well…” Our lips met before she could finish. I felt myself melt at the sensation of her soft lips upon mine, and my skin tingled as we kissed.
We pulled our arms around each other and pulled our bodies close as the kiss grew hungrier. My entire mouth felt glowing, and my mind felt on the verge of bursting with happiness.
When we broke the kiss, we were panting and giggling like kids. Our eyes locked together for a few more minutes, and then Brandi spoke.
“I was going to say you’re comet in an empty sky…but that doesn’t come close to doing you justice” I smiled, not my usual smile of politeness, nor my calculated smile of false happiness, but a rare, genuine smile. The corners of my mouth almost seemed to be buoyed up by recent events and unable to come back down.
~
There was a certain level of newfound confidence in Brandi from that day forward. It wasn’t just a brighter smile or a swing in her step. Her entire composure had changed. The old shame and hesitancy seemed gone, replaced with noticeable pride in herself. When I pointed this out to her, she mentioned how she had noticed a similar change in myself, though I certainly wouldn’t have ever guessed it on my own.
One night, at my cabin, her newfound confidence was expressed to me in a new way.
“You know, I’ve been thinking some more about that dream you had…tell me again about how my little metamorphosis was a good thing.” I started to talk about the different tastes of beauty, but she put her finger to my lips.
“No, Jason….” She walked towards me, and positioned her body close to mine. “Tell me why I’m…sexy.” I was silent for an awkward moment, not fully knowing what to say.
“I’ve felt embarrassed my whole life, but you’ve given me some looks the last few days…and, I like it.” I barely knew where to begin, but I could try.
“You’re sexy because you’re soft, perfect to hug, to cuddle, to caress…” As I said those words, her tank top came off, revealing her large breasts straining her braw and her gentle looking tummy spilling over her pants. As she stepped even closer to me, I noticed her shoulders were slightly wider than mine. “You’re also sexy because you’re strong…you’re bigger than me, your frame is larger than mine…you have a strong mind…strength is sexy, too.”
“You know what’s sexy about you?” She undid the clasps of her bra, and her large breasts bounced free. “You’re able to admit all that…most guys aren’t into their feelings at all, especially not those kind.”
My eyes, still mesmerized by her bosom, didn’t notice her hands moving towards my shirt. Quickly, she ripped it open, and then discarded it.
“Your body, too…sexy…” I was pretty thin for a man, and didn’t see myself what was sexy about it. “A buff guy carries so much stigma of aggression and anger…but a skinny guy…he’s cute…masculine, but vulnerable.”
We met in a kiss, not innocent or magical like our first, but almost feral and animalistic. My hands started to cup her bountiful breasts, and as I gently pinched her nipple, she slightly bit down on my lower lip.
We almost tripped and fell in mutual surprise, but we quickly made our way to the bedroom and started to rapidly remove the rest of our clothes. Our bodies rolled together, and her feminine softness pressing down upon me was indescribably blissful. Time seemed to blur as we made love, and when it was over, we were holding each other and crying with joy.
No further words needed to be spoken. I started to fall asleep in the arms of my Goddess, completely content for the first time in my life. I knew then that I never would leave her, that nothing would ever destroy our bond.
These are the moments of possibility, I now realize, that are the embers in the frost of life of which one truly dreams. They are the moments that one desires feverishly in moments of bleakest despair. They seem impossible, and yet, we know they are not in our hearts. They are the dreams capable of becoming reality that make the rest of life worth living.
As I now enjoy life with my Goddess I cry out to my fellow mortals, "Let us never surrender these dreams, for they are all that is good within us and our existence."
