She met him in a daydream that she floated into while seated in Mrs. Marcus’ 7th grade English class. They sat beneath the shade of a low-hanging willow tree and shared their goals, their fears and their limitless affections.
The school bell rang and woke her with a jolt. She hurried to her next class in hopes that he, her daydream, awaited her there.
…Imagine her surprise when she became re-acquainted with him nearly ten years later. He was familiar, stood only a few inches taller than her. His skin was the same honey brown. His eyes, still dark and enigmatic. His jawbone had become stronger, more distinct. He grew from that little boy with big dreams to a passionate and ambitious young man. He spoke with conviction about who he was and who he intended to be.
She found comfort with him that she hadn’t felt since she was seated beneath that sleepy willow. He compelled her to embrace her every aspiration. When they were alone, they laughed and laughed until her side ached. It was friendship in its purest form: raw and almost astonishing.
She remembered the day they met, the one where they shared that secret rendezvous. She wanted to tell him, to remind him of that day. But she knew he wouldn’t understand.
Reality woke her with a jolt. She hurried to him in hopes that he, her daydream, had on that same day dreamt of her...
