Daydream Believer

Like a celebrity, he walks again with that unidentifiable charm that brings heroines to their knees. At least in Sandy's eyes, that's what he's like. Even if he's not as immaculate in real life, in her mind, he is perfect, and that's all that matters.

He buys his lunch and obscurely steals a quick infinitesimal glimpse at her before settling down at a table with his friends. Sandy could not believe her eyes. Is this really happening?

But there it goes again! One more half-a-second look, now with a quarter of a wistful smile goes her way.

In the high school cafeteria filled with teenage angst and Cupid's misaligned arrows, it takes everything she has not to have an epileptic squee fit. Eyes down, cheeks red, she pretends not to notice. Suddenly, her arms feels like useless idiotic parts of her body for they cannot move the way they used to. They seem to be hinged at the joints, refusing to budge, refusing to follow her muddled brain's commands.

Another couple of not-so-secret glances  between bites and he stands up with his tray and heads for her direction. She stiffens in anticipation for the one thing she has been waiting for all year long. Contact.

Two meters away and she can feel her heart doing the wedding march. He looks shy but motivated, like he's bracing for something he's been dreaming yet dreading for. Contact.

One step, two steps. She looks up in expectation. Three steps, four. He is behind her now, with purposeful strides to the trash can right at her back. And before she knows it, he's out the canteen door with his friends in tow. 

Oh well, maybe in another time, another place, he won't back out, she thought.

There's always a choice between the ugly truth and the beautiful lie. Between the strands of fantasy and the coarse ropes of reality. We spend our existence traversing the fine line between the two dimensions and sometimes it's hard to distinguish the one from the other. Especially if the What Could Be is more appealing than the What Is.

In reality, the boy never noticed her. The meaningful looks and gestures were never there from the start. Just ordinary blank stares at nothing in particular that just happened to be in her general direction. She never even crossed her mind.

Daydream Goddess is by Rebecca Anthony.