He Reminded Me of You.

 On one of our promised nights, you told me about a dream that you got.

You were trembling, gloomy, and uncharacteristically sentimental. You looked like you were drunk on something that wasn't liquor. Your voice was lower than usual, and you sounded so full of sorrow.

You told me that your brother appeared in your dream—he's been long gone in your life. Left without leaving any notice or explanation.

In your narrative, you tried so hard to make it look like you hate him for leaving. But even I can sense that you know you can never hate him.

Your brother appeared in your dream, and he hugged you in a ghostly embrace. It filled your inside up with warmth and touched your skin with cold and emptiness. It made you starve for more but it scarred you just as deep.

I listened to your drunken longing. It felt like we were no longer in the same room together. You were in your head, thinking so far ahead to the past, and I was sitting next to your empty body. Watching your body while your soul mumbles about what he sees.

The room was dim with the small lamp lit up between us, and it's always like that every other night. It just accentuated your masked face more perfectly tonight. Capturing your humanity in a way it could never before.

You looked so fragile and broken. And my hand could never touch your body even for a pat. I was too afraid you would be falling apart if I did. So I sat silently. Next to you. Without a sound.

And then we sat there in complete silence. You have done telling stories about your dream.

After a while, you got up. Apologized for being too sentimental and excused your leave. I could not see your face, just like usual, but by the way your voice cracked, I knew you were forcing a smile under that mask.

After you left, I thought long about you and your brother. Every night when you didn't come, I wished you would finally have closure for the matter.

I met someone who reminded me of you. I know it was you. I wish it was you.

I saw him walking beside his brother, his eyes lit up and his smile was wide, genuine, and warm. He looked more like a child than anything else.

He reminded me of you. Your happy tease, your childish honest excitement, your humane vulnerability.

He reminded me of you. And I hope he was you. Because he looks so happy being around his brother. Because he is honest to himself that he had never hated his brother at all his whole life. Because he smiles, and it was not forced to convince anyone that he is alright.

Because I want you to be happy and find peace.

Just like he did.