I dreamt about these kids one night, these five kids playing around in a field, high on life, high on love.
And I was one of them.
I dreamt about the blond one always laughing and falling around because her body is always too slow for her volcanic soul, she’s crossing boundaries engaged in an assault course craving acceptance and diversity, but tonight, tonight she’s not falling, she’s flying, tonight her body isn’t the clumsy old friend she’s been living with and mistreating for two decades, tonight she is her body, and she’s a ballerina dancing with the wind, light as a feather.
Then I dreamt about the wise boy, usually looking at the world through a kaleidoscope of complexity, looking for answers in words, making up words for answers, but tonight, tonight he’s just amazed by the simplicity of their happiness, of their friendship, blossoming in the warmth of the early summer; he is forgetting about words and answers, screaming his acceptance of the world, without doubt, embracing a new faith, wiser than he has ever been.
Then I dreamt about the awkward one, always wondering if he has the right to be here, carrying his heart in his hand, ready to share it with whoever needs it, and no one seems to understand his intention, but tonight, tonight his heart is where it belongs, going wild in his chest, and he knows that he has the right to be there, he is wanted there, he doesn’t have to give to receive, no one is expecting anything from him but to be himself, and he finally is.
Then I dreamt about the lonely one, without whom none of this would have been possible, without whom they would all have been lonely, but tonight, tonight he’s more than that, tonight he is the friend, the brother, the lover, and he laughs, and his eyes smile, and his arms are a home to his beloved, and he finds shelter in their feverish bodies pressed against his and while the night falls he stands up brighter, taller, prouder than he has ever been.
And I was there, looking at them, looking at us. Looking at these five kids oblivious of the world, loving each other as it if was their last day on earth but they had all the time they needed.
I dreamt about the mosquitos becoming caresses against their naked limbs. I dreamt about that sunset and that moonrise, incessant ballet of lights, I dreamt about the new colours that don’t exist but should always be there, I dreamt about the stars leaving the sky for our eyes.
I keep dreaming about that night in the field, and I’m grateful, not everyone gets to say that their dream became true.