A strong knock on my room door resonated with the decibel of pain that my forehead was rejoicing. Pain; caused due to a certain phenomenon known as hangover. It was a brilliant Friday night. I have faint memories of consuming bottles of wines, encountering random people at the Clarke Quay bridge including this chubby Brit woman who was trying to seduce this Brit guy in our group and of course I remember dragging myself out of the dirty ocean line waters of East coast park.
Yes, it was a long night. All of it, worth it. Precisely, the rejoicing.
Even though it was the middle of the day, I wasn’t expecting anyone to knock on my doors. I was in no state to receive the knock leave alone the responding. The intensity of knock escalated within seconds, it faded into my sleep like the Sunday night beats of Tiesto,Real hard. Someone was really desperate or really worried perhaps.
When the knock was athletic enough to actually wake me up, I struggled but finally managed to screech,“Who is it? Come in“. I didn’t even move my head while I screeched, for starters the head won’t move because of the pain and over that, I really did not want to open my pit red eyes.
The door squeaked as I could feel someone’s presence in the room. A familiar female voice quietly spoke my name as if trying to whisper in my ears.
I managed to lift my head and turn towards the source of the delicate sound that had embarked my ears, I opened my eyes to see a faint figure of a women dressed in peach, or it could be white or yellow, it was all hazy. I wasn’t able to tilt my head high enough to be able to see her face but it all felt familiar, felt known. The pain was adding to the reluctance in my movements. I gave up. My head was back on the pillow and eyes shut like the doors of a gold safe with multiple locks. For a moment, I was sleeping again.
I could feel her voice, she was saying something I couldn’t really decipher. As I struggled to lift my head up or open the locks, I felt a hand on the back of my neck, the hand lifted my head and positioned it on a something really serene and cozy, It was her lap; in split of a second, I knew who the person was. I can never forget the warmth and comfort of this lap, I have been resting my pain on this lap for a long time now. I felt her hand on my forehead and my pain diffused like gases in the air; within moments, I was asleep. Carefree; I felt home.
A facetime call on the ipad startled me up at around four, I woke up in an instant, I could still feel elephants pounding on my head but my lock free eyes were looking for someone or even a faint trace of that someone who had been here, but nothing, except the sandy floor nothing else was different from the last time I had woken up in that room.
It was a dream. All that knocking, I made it all up but somewhere in my heart the comfort was real.
We don’t really need to be told what we really need or want, we just have to read our own hearts. We know it, perhaps all it takes is to see between the dreams
Five Weeks, and I will be home; countdown begins!