29 Apr 2025
Dream
i’m steven. Steven always remembered her — the girl from seventh grade, the one who flinched at the mention of his name like it was a bad word.
Years passed. Scars stayed. But salt faded into understanding. He never expected her to show up again — not in a dream, not like this.
It started simple. Somehow, they were on FaceTime. No awkward beginnings, no heavy past — just light conversations, laughing like they were two friends who never needed permission to know each other. Steven felt a familiar nervousness — scared to show too much of himself, hiding half his face from the camera — but she stayed, smiling, carrying the weight of the call without letting it fall.
She rode in a car, friends packed in the back, and when he shouted “Ayyy!” into the screen, the whole car echoed it back, laughing.
Even when she got to the gym, she stayed on the line — leaving Steven sitting there, watching, forgetting he could’ve flirted, or dropped a line, or “run game.”
Instead, he paused. Tried to play it cool. But she laughed the whole time, like she didn’t even mind.
It felt easy. It felt safe.
Still, the weight of Simayah sat heavy in his chest.
Should he bring it up? Should he ask her what happened to her and Simayah? Should he tell her he and Simayah broke up? Would she go back and tell Simayah everything — about what Steven did, the parts of himself he wasn’t proud of?
The fear kept him silent.
At some point, she started singing — playful, bold, sending spam texts packed with love song lyrics, heart emojis, wedding rings, blushing faces.
In middle school, Steven knew girls used to do that to flirt — but he missed it.
His green text bubbles lagged.
When he finally saw the messages, it was too late. She said it herself — “Too late.”
For the first time, anxiety cracked through the dream, and Steven felt it sharp and real — a slice of the same feelings he thought he’d outgrown.
And then —
She had to go.
The line cut.
The dream ended.
And Steven woke up in the heavy quiet of real life, wishing he could press “unpause” — wishing he could live in that dream a little longer.
