Barcelona

Lately I've been dreaming of your face, imagining that you are lying beside me on green pastures in the countryside of a faraway, secluded European town; one that remains hidden behind crumbling walls and  vines that grow within each crevice. Your smile gleams with hope and your laugh fills the air around us with peace, as an afternoon breeze moves amongst the trees, through your soft hair. A strand makes its way to your sun-kissed face, and you tuck it behind your left ear. We spend the next few hours in a sacred silence, words fall flat in our chests because our hearts are brimming with a feeling that words fail to express. 

Those hours feel like minutes on a lazy summer day, time drives recklessly on the other side of our lane but we continue at a steady pace for we know that there is no rush, no race. From time to time, she catches me looking at her gazing at the endless fields of green that meet with the infinite skies of blue and stray clouds, a sense of wonder rests on her brow, a breath of relief escapes her body. She sits cross-legged with perfect posture, something that baffles me to this day because I've had terrible posture my whole life. She enjoys teasing me about it but it's okay, maybe one day she'll teach me. The fingers on her right hand curl beneath her chin to support her head, strangers would think she's bored but the small smile that forms on her face would say otherwise. 

I lay the back of my head against the grass and I stare upwards at drifting grey and brilliant blue, an ocean above us that holds all of the good in this small, imperfect world. One that remains at a standstill when I am lying beside her. Glancing back at me, she sees my wandering eyes and buries her face in her left shoulder out of joy, the wrinkles disappear and she is young. For a moment, all of the weight she carries in her heart are nowhere to found, carried away by the gentle April breeze that kisses her cheek and ruffles my hair. She lies down beside me and closes her eyes. Mine stay fixed on the sky above but I can see her in my peripheral, her serene face basked in a light of grace that I first saw the moment we met and haven't stopped seeing since. 

I fall asleep to the sound of rustling trees and distant music, carried away by the sound of her breathing. I dream of an open sky with her by my side, looking down at the life we've yet to live. The places we've yet to explore, the things we've yet to do. With every passing day, it become harder to tell the difference between my dreams and reality. Amidst this uncertainty, all I am certain of is that I am not ready to wake up. And maybe if I live every day as if it were a dream, perhaps I never will. Perhaps even when the rain comes and the sun decides it's time to set,  I'll still be able to hold on to the flicker of hope within, a light that will never fade even when winds blow and mountains fall. When the things around us crumble to dust and it seems that the end is near, this piece of ourselves will remain untouched. It will be something to hold onto like the vague memory of a scene within a dream that remains in our head long after morning has passed.  

She taps my arm and my eyes open at the tenderness of her touch, welcomed by the sight of her simple beauty. She tells me that the sun is setting soon and that she didn't want me to miss it. We sit side by side as hues of orange and yellow turn into shades of purple and pink, her fingers fit into the spaces between mine perfectly as she rests her head on my shoulder. We bathe in the beauty of this moment for we know that tomorrow today will become a memory, tonight will eventually be forgotten. The pastel colours on this pavement will be washed away by the arrival of rain, leaving behind only traces of a once beautiful mural that lay there. A painting of two souls seated on the grass of a European countryside as sunshine becomes moonlight and two paths converge into one. 

River Landscape Outside Barcelona, 1950's

https://youtu.be/pBt0PhsRpgs