{"sf1_id":1425853,"sf2_id":"WelplENe","title":"Man of My Dreams","author":"Hedry","words":2904,"posted_at":"2019-02-27T16:24:00.000Z","tags":["Deer","Depression","Dream","Male","Nonspecific narrator","Stag"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1425853-man-of-my-dreams","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/WelplENe","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=1425853\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"Someone starts feeling their age and has a bit of a journey. Something a little different. I should probably warn that there's a little theme of suicidal thought here, so please consider that if this type of content might be distressing for you.","content":"I don't remember when it started.\u0026nbsp; It was so insidious, I just... One day, I didn't feel real.\u0026nbsp; I didn't feel like a person.\u0026nbsp; I thought it was just life, you know?\u0026nbsp; As you get older, as you age, people drop out of your life.\u0026nbsp; Family dies, or moves away, friends move, lose touch... your circle gets smaller and smaller, right? \u0026nbsp;And soon I found I was living alone in an apartment and just living for work, and...\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd I got depressed.\u0026nbsp; Depression.\u0026nbsp; I fell into a trap, every day the same, in and out.\u0026nbsp; I just started laughing one day while I sat looking out the window, like I was a prisoner.\u0026nbsp; I watch the world go by.\u0026nbsp; I could be out there with the people, walking around, getting a coffee, having dinner, watching movies, laughing, but I don't.\u0026nbsp; And I looked in the mirror and saw that I was going grey, and I needed something, but I didn't know what.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI mean, I was okay, right?\u0026nbsp; I was fine just doing my thing, and then one day I'd be dead.\u0026nbsp; But the thing is, what's the difference between that being sometime in the future, and today?\u0026nbsp; And that thought just couldn't get out of my head.\u0026nbsp; And I slid open the door to the balcony, and the stones were ice cold as I looked down about eight stories and the rain started, and then, just then, as I leaned out, I felt that shock that I didn't want to die.\u0026nbsp; And I just crumpled up in a ball on the balcony and let the rain hit me and I just stayed there for like half an hour until I felt cold and numb and stupid.\u0026nbsp; And I laughed and laughed.\u0026nbsp; And cried.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI called work, told them I was sick, would have to take a few days off, and I just drank.\u0026nbsp; I didn't even try to go to sleep in my bed, I just lay on the floor with the door to the balcony a little open, and a pillow from the couch, and I lay there, watching the rain come in, and I slowly drifted off to sleep.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd I dreamed.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe stepped lightly through my dreams, over moonlight and breezes that smelled of honeysuckle, to stand over me, blocking the view of the stars.\u0026nbsp; I blinked in a sleepy kind of way, where I knew it was a dream, but it didn't matter, and he looked down at me with big eyes, soulful, like a stag (no not like a stag, as a stag, a stag), the king of the woods, dark, mysterious, handsome.\u0026nbsp; He crouched down beside me, the moon framed now between his antlers - I remember that specifically - like some kind of portent.\u0026nbsp; The gentle breeze set poplar and aspen trembling as he spoke.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Hey.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nEven in my dream, I blinked.\u0026nbsp; The word was out of place, glib, blunt.\u0026nbsp; I stared at him, confused, reaching out to touch his firm chest -\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Hey, no, look, it's cool, uh... I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay, yeah?\u0026nbsp; You're having kind of a rough time and I just thought I'd pop in and say hi, you know?\u0026nbsp; I know I haven't visited or - \"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI sat up.\u0026nbsp; I knew him, on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't name him.\u0026nbsp; Couldn't say it.\u0026nbsp; Couldn't.\u0026nbsp; So I just pretended everything was okay like I usually do.\u0026nbsp; \"Moon, franchise, leaf, operator... handbag?\"\u0026nbsp; I could see by his expression I wasn't reaching him.\u0026nbsp; I reached out again to try to touch him, to look into his eyes, show him my need.\u0026nbsp; I needed him.\u0026nbsp; \"Carburetor?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe again gently positioned my hand away from his chest, then adjusted his position from a kneeling crouch and sat beside me.\u0026nbsp; \"Look, I know things are tough, I'm sorry you're feeling this way.\u0026nbsp; I just want you to know that you're loved - you are, and you're gonna make it through this.\u0026nbsp; You don't have anything to prove to me, I know you're fighting, and it's hard.\u0026nbsp; You're important to me, okay?\u0026nbsp; It's a battle, you know?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe aspens took on a little of their autumn yellow as the full moon passed overhead, quaking in that gentle breeze that smelled of late blooming honeysuckle - or was that him?\u0026nbsp; I leaned in close and caught the sent of cedar and sandalwood, and a hint of musk, and I moved to lean against him, the bellows of his chest heaving in a sigh.\u0026nbsp; \"Ah fuck.\" \u0026nbsp;He shook his head and finally positioned himself a little closer, relenting, one hand behind me to allow me to lean against his frame.\u0026nbsp; \"Okay.\u0026nbsp; It's okay.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Rice combo?\u0026nbsp; Alpha window clip?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe looked at me again in the eyes.\u0026nbsp; \"Don't forget to drink some water.\u0026nbsp; It's important to stay hydrated when you've been drinking.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI tilted my head and it was black and the rain was pelting the door to the balcony, and I winced.\u0026nbsp; It was three in the morning, at least suggested by my phone.\u0026nbsp; No moon.\u0026nbsp; I stood up to hit the washroom, drink some water, and then just collapse against the side of the wall, feeling the cold at my back.\u0026nbsp; The room was too cold, but I didn't want to shut the window, not yet.\u0026nbsp; It felt... real.\u0026nbsp; Really real.\u0026nbsp; More real than me, but when I leaned out to put my hand into the rain, I could feel it, and that was strangely comforting to me.\u0026nbsp; I lay there for an hour with my hand in the rain before struggling off to bed, where I slept as I imagine a log might, which is to say not dead, but, you know, as close as I'd like to compare it.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe next day I just tried to pretend that I was normal, like everyone else.\u0026nbsp; I woke up at six with a\u0026nbsp; dry mouth and a modest headache, because my body hates me, obviously, said fuck it at about seven thirty, and put on track pants and a grubby fleece and a rain jacket and went out to get coffee.\u0026nbsp; I was wet in about ten minutes, so good call on not getting the shower.\u0026nbsp; Umbrella in hand, I drank my exceedingly tall black coffee as I stood there in the intermittent pissing and watched no one.\u0026nbsp; Cars sped across the street from destination to destination, and I was the only person outside.\u0026nbsp; I caught hints of people, like ghosts, as the ran from their cars to a shop, or in reverse.\u0026nbsp; Slowly walking to the park, it was quieter.\u0026nbsp; There was no one here, and it was far enough away from the traffic to actually feel quiet, you know?\u0026nbsp; There were still enough leaves on the tree that I could put the umbrella away for a bit and just stand there, and listen to the patter and the wind, like last night when... no.\u0026nbsp; Not last night.\u0026nbsp; When was I listening to the trees?\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI stood there for an hour, just listening, feeling just an intense longing for something, someone.\u0026nbsp; And yet I didn't feel awful, just incomplete.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe rest of the day was a blur.\u0026nbsp; I made myself eat something.\u0026nbsp; Sat in a restaurant for a bit, ordered a sandwich, toast, bacon, lettuce, butter.\u0026nbsp; Coffee, again, tasted like shit.\u0026nbsp; Jazz played in the background and I felt out of time, like it was a different age.\u0026nbsp; The whole place looked like it was out of the forties or fifties, with black and white pictures on the wall, and old records, and other shit.\u0026nbsp; I browsed the walls with my eyes for a little while, and leaned against the counter for a few minutes, starting to feel the day catch up with me,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nand I dreamed.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe phone was ringing against the wall, but there was no one to get it.\u0026nbsp; I sat up from cigarette yellowed, cracked vinyl coated seating, and shuffled along the metal rimmed table, the booth feeling just a little too large.\u0026nbsp; I could hide under the table, if I wanted to.\u0026nbsp; I wanted to, but the phone.\u0026nbsp; I had to answer the phone.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nStepping out from under the table, I passed the display of deserts, lit under incandescent lights that showed off the care that they'd been made with, but they were too perfect, as if just a picture of them, or made of plastic, or frozen in time.\u0026nbsp; I began to wonder when I'd been here before - with my parents?\u0026nbsp; No, my grandparents.\u0026nbsp; Oh, wow.\u0026nbsp; I leaned against the display, feeling the cold glass as I drowsily pressed my nose against it and breathed out, leaving a smear of fog that my small hands ached to wipe.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI couldn't see them, but I could smell the cigarette smoke above me, making the air blue.\u0026nbsp; They were chatting in the booth about their lives, smoking like chimneys, just legs filling the seats, and shadows above them, as the phone continued to ring on the wall.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"You're dreaming.\"\u0026nbsp; Oh, thank goodness.\u0026nbsp; My heart leapt in my chest to see him again.\u0026nbsp; I turned, then turned again.\u0026nbsp; \"No, uh... just...\"\u0026nbsp; I began to feel distress as the voice was constantly behind me, just to the side, out of view.\u0026nbsp; \"Okay, wait, hold on.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd there he was, just beside me, hand on my shoulder as he tried to get me to stop spinning.\u0026nbsp; \"Listen, I'm still here, okay?\u0026nbsp; I'm not leaving you.\u0026nbsp; I want you to know that.\u0026nbsp; You're obviously tired, but this is a little stranger than normal.\u0026nbsp; Guess you just want someone to look after you for a bit, huh?\"\u0026nbsp; He crouched down beside me to get on my level, his tie hanging out from his shirt, his jacket fitting over his frame handsomely.\u0026nbsp; \"That's normal, totally reasonable.\u0026nbsp; You could use a bit of TLC to go with your BLT.\u0026nbsp; Uh... BL, I guess, no tomato.\"\u0026nbsp; He smiled sheepishly, antlers framing a hanging light.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"111111111111111111?\" I asked, leaning in to hug him.\u0026nbsp; I just wanted to be held, just wanted to be hugged, just... I just...\u0026nbsp; The phone kept ringing, kept ringing.\u0026nbsp; I looked up at the phone, long cord dangling against the wall, plastic yellowed with age.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe rubbed my back, comfortingly.\u0026nbsp; I just stood there for a while, holding him-\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe cashier picked up the phone as I wiped the drool from my face, and by the stares I'd been caught snoring.\u0026nbsp; Fuck.\u0026nbsp; I left a few bills on the counter and stumbled back out into the rain.\u0026nbsp; Leaning against wet brick that the underhang didn't quite protect, I caught my breath as my heart ached.\u0026nbsp; I just wanted a hug, needed a hug.\u0026nbsp; Fuck.\u0026nbsp; Shaking in the cold and the wet, I called up one of my friends.\u0026nbsp; It went to voicemail.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Hey, uh... I know we haven't really hung out in a while, but do you think it'd be okay to catch up for a bit?\u0026nbsp; I just wanted to reconnect, and if you're not too busy sometime?\u0026nbsp; Uh, anytime?\u0026nbsp; Or if you don't, that's fine too, I just...\"\u0026nbsp; I stood there letting it record the sound of the rain for a few moments.\u0026nbsp; \"Just miss you is all.\u0026nbsp; I really hope you're doing okay, and things are probably, things are probably going really great for you.\u0026nbsp; I know they are.\u0026nbsp; Well, uh, bye.\u0026nbsp; Call me.\u0026nbsp; If you want.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI stood there in the rain and wind - the wind was whipping up - and just listened.\u0026nbsp; Cars went by, splashing growing pools of water.\u0026nbsp; It was getting dark, and lights began to flick on, creating an ethereal, dreamy feel to the walk home.\u0026nbsp; I kept my head down, looking at the other world in the pavement.\u0026nbsp; It seemed brighter, more exciting, more interesting.\u0026nbsp; I sighed, a little cloud forming from my breath.\u0026nbsp; Brr.\u0026nbsp; Would it be snow?\u0026nbsp; It was early yet in the season, but just cold enough to think of it.\u0026nbsp; Maybe flurries.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAs I got close to home, I looked up at my apartment building.\u0026nbsp; A few lights were on, and I could imagine warm dinners and quiet, gentle conversations.\u0026nbsp; How was your day, dear?\u0026nbsp; Did anything interesting happen?\u0026nbsp; Would you like to go out tonight?\u0026nbsp; Et cetera, et cetera.\u0026nbsp; I imagined them going to socials afterwards, or hanging out with friends and smoking and having exotic drinks with fun names.\u0026nbsp; I could imagine sitting there, cigarette in hand, feeling cool.\u0026nbsp; Gin please.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nOf course, that wasn't me.\u0026nbsp; No smoking, at least, and no one to be close with.\u0026nbsp; I laughed stupidly as I entered the apartment and turned on the TV, just for background noise.\u0026nbsp; Death, horror, stupidity.\u0026nbsp; As always.\u0026nbsp; I turned it off and just listened to the hum of the lights and the shaking of the windows in the wind.\u0026nbsp; This storm.\u0026nbsp; It hadn't let up for days, it felt like.\u0026nbsp; When would I get to see the sun?\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI was feeling tired again, but it was only eight now.\u0026nbsp; I had nothing to do, nowhere to be.\u0026nbsp; I caught myself staring into the light until rings of distorted colours felt burned into my vision as I air-dried.\u0026nbsp; Shifting my attention to the wall, I stared at it, the hum of the lights and the flow of air in the otherwise silent apartment growing without comparison to become ear-splitting dins, until I shook my head and heard my neck crack, placing everything into perspective again.\u0026nbsp; Silence.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"I don't want to die,\" I made myself say.\u0026nbsp; The words echoed for a moment, and I frowned as the word 'die' was the last to hit my ears again, and again.\u0026nbsp; \"Fuck,\" I swore, and looked for things to do.\u0026nbsp; Clean.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI bustled about the apartment, picking things up, doing laundry, dusting, dishes... everything.\u0026nbsp; Just anything to be distracted.\u0026nbsp; All the lights on, I put the local radio station on in the background.\u0026nbsp; Mostly commercials, it felt like, but there was a voice, talking about traffic, talking about weather... hmm.\u0026nbsp; Rain ending tonight, thank goodness.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI was tired, wanted to go to sleep, I just missed... him.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHim who?\u0026nbsp; I tried to remember.\u0026nbsp; It felt like a name of the tip of my tongue, just out of reach.\u0026nbsp; Sitting on the couch, I just stared at my hands as I tried to recall something that was impossible to think of.\u0026nbsp; Who was I missing?\u0026nbsp; I began to feel crazy, and lay back, furious with myself for all this stupidity.\u0026nbsp; And in the full light of the apartment, with the radio on,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI dreamed.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI was here with purpose, hunting.\u0026nbsp; So much war, so much death.\u0026nbsp; I adjusted the rifle in my hands.\u0026nbsp; It felt comfortable, worn, used.\u0026nbsp; Like I'd been on many hunts before, seen the prey go down, ended the fight, his life for mine.\u0026nbsp; My knife had tasted blood many times, been warmed by many last moments.\u0026nbsp; Squinting into the distance, brown autumn scrub slowly collecting falling snow, I looked toward the trees.\u0026nbsp; Antlers?\u0026nbsp; And then he was there beside me, as I turned in slow motion to face him.\u0026nbsp; Everything moving like molasses.\u0026nbsp; I felt awkward, helpless, my heart racing as I turned.\u0026nbsp; I'm supposed to shoot, to stab, to end this.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"What are you doing?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI didn't respond to him as I turned, overbalanced, falling back onto my ass as I looked up at him, his form shadowed, noble, the growing storm above us framed perfectly.\u0026nbsp; An arc of lightning, but no noise.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"You're going to be okay, you're going to get through this.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI reached for my knife.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe leaned down to try to help me up, and, still falling, I took his hand.\u0026nbsp; \"Who are you?\" I asked.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd everything stood still.\u0026nbsp; No noise, just a picture of a moment.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe looked shocked.\u0026nbsp; \"What?\"\u0026nbsp; Our eyes met, and for an eternity, a moment, we were connected, just looking into each other, and I felt like I was home.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Who are you?\" I asked again, as his eyes began to dart left and right.\u0026nbsp; I could smell him sweat, smelled cedar and sandalwood, and confusion.\u0026nbsp; \"Wait, please.\u0026nbsp; I love you.\"\u0026nbsp; He made a noise, unintelligible, and turned to run, bounding away.\u0026nbsp; \"I love you!\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nNo no no no!\u0026nbsp; I began to cry as I pulled out the rifle.\u0026nbsp; Can't let him go, can't let him leave, I have to... I have to...\u0026nbsp; \"I love you!\" I called out again as he bounded off into the distance, getting smaller, farther away.\u0026nbsp; I don't want to lose him, but I don't want to kill him.\u0026nbsp; I can't, I can't!\u0026nbsp; But I have to, don't I?\u0026nbsp; Do I?\u0026nbsp; But it's my... dream? \u0026nbsp;A dream?\u0026nbsp; Is it a dream, only a dream?\u0026nbsp; Or...\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nFinger on the trigger,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI awoke to streaming sunlight and a vibrating phone.\u0026nbsp; \"Mf.\u0026nbsp; Fuck.\u0026nbsp; Holy shit, wh.\u0026nbsp; What time?\"\u0026nbsp; Seven thirty.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI clumsily fumbled with screen, then brought it to my ear.\u0026nbsp; \"Hello?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAt first there was an awkward silence, but there was definitely someone there.\u0026nbsp; And then, after a pause and a breath:\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Hey.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd I smiled.\n\n  \n  \n\n"}