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And I’m asleep and this is a dream. Well I’m not so sure I’m asleep, I don’t remember going to sleep, but I do know that this is a dream, because it has to be. It’s so big here, I know that it’s the great out doors and all, but it just seems to go on forever, and up forever and the sky is so blue. And this is a field, a large field filled with every kind of flower you can imagine, and long tall green grass that sways in the breeze. The breeze feels good. There are many trees, maybe it’s a forest, and I never could tell the one from the other, the trees from the forest. There are a lot of trees. Trees, long grass, and colorful flowers, as far as the eye can see, with the sun smiling down on it all.
And this has to be a Dream.
And He is here.
He says he loves me, and that he brings love and affection, and someday I’ll feel it too.
And I say he’s a liar and that he turned his back on me.
He doesn’t seem to be phased though, like he’s heard it all before, like he knows what I’m going to say before I say it, and that infuriates me, his benevolence fills me with such rage.
He says that I can feel what ever I want about him, and he’ll always love me.
And I say I don’t believe him, this is a trick, and a dream, and that I’m going to wake up now. Any second now.
He reassures me that this is no dream and no trick. He tells me that I won’t wake up. He’s here to stay this time.
And I want to hurt him, I want him to feel my pain, and my suffering, but his eyes they glisten so much, like there are wells of compassion and as much as I hate him and as much as I want to bring him pain, I’m conflicted because I also want to love him, I want to believe him. Why do I want to believe him? I know now for sure this is a trick. I’ll never believe him.
He tells me to go gather wood for a fire. The sun is setting and he points up.
And I look up and the sun is setting, dusk is coming quick, but I refuse to do his work for him.
He tells me to go now before I lose the light. There is a forcefulness to his voice that tells me not to question it.
And I go. What else could I do, so I’m wandering around this clearing, looking for wood.
He yells Hurry up. But, I’m going as fast as I can.
And I’m finding really good pieces of wood, this is easier than I thought it was going to be. I’m loading my arms up with wood, this wood will burn good I know, I don’t know how I know I just do. My arms are full so I turn too carry it all back, but I have wandered a lot farther away than I had though I had and I’m lost, and I’m afraid. I’m lost, I’m lost in my dream.
He yells to me, he asks me where I am, where the wood is.
And I head towards his voice, like the pole star, my guiding light. I hate needing his help, but I’m carrying all these twigs and branches, too many probably, and its getting heavier with every step. I’m going to drop it if I don’t get there soon I think. And then there he is waiting for me, sitting on the ground.
He says Oh there you are.
And I hate him more than ever. I throw the wood down by his feet, barely missing them..
He begins to build a fire. Sitting on the ground building a fire, he looks content. The fire begins to glows with a red that can only be seen in a dream. After a while deeper reds and oranges and whites join the red, the heat is so pure.
And I feel warmer than I’ve ever felt. I’m just so comfortable.
He says Come sit by me son.
And I say I’m not your son, you’re not my father, not anymore.
He says Nonsense, come sit down next to me. We need to talk, he tells me.
And I sit down, but not next to him, I sit on the other side of the fire, and viewing him through the fire he is deep in shadow, he looks like the mystery I’ve always known him as. He looks like the ghoul I’ve always imagined him being. My hatred feels justified.
And I say Well talk.
He looks at me, I can feel his eyes on me, even through the obstruction of flame. He’s looking me up and down inspecting me. He says You’ve grown up well, you’re a fine young man. He says I’m sorry, so sorry.
And I can’t see them but I hear them, there are tears on his cheeks, I hear it in his voice, he’s crying.
And I hate his weakness. The tears of the great and powerful Oz, let him cry. He abandoned me.
He says I know I haven’t been there for you, but I will be there from now on.
And I say You think you can just come back, you flood me with love and compassion after years of neglect and you think you can come back. I say I’m going to wake up now, and I’m going to forget you. You have no power over me.
He says I know I ignored you, I know it will be hard but I want to try.
And it’s really dark out now, I notice, the only light is from the fire. There is quite all around us, the crackle of the fire and our breathing is the only sounds. And I feel alone, but not completely because he is here, and as much as I hate him. I don’t want to be alone.
He says I love you, it will all be different now.
And I’m still dreaming, this is a dream. It has to be. I might not be asleep but this has to be a dream. I want to stop dreaming.
He says Get some sleep now.
And I say, I am asleep, or at least dreaming.
He says For the last time this isn’t a dream, I’m really here. Then he gets up and walks off, and I’m alone.
And I hate him even more. I stay near the fire, where I feel warm and safe. And I don’t sleep, you can’t sleep in a dream. I’m awake, and I watch the fire, how it dances and plays as it burns down. Down to ember and ash, if ever there was a phoenix it would rise from this ash, but there is no great bird of rebirth. Maybe this isn’t a dream. And the sun comes up.
He asks Have you been up all night? He says Come help me pack up we’ve got to get back to the city.
And I say Ok Dad. I’m coming and maybe this isn’t a dream
And I have had a lot of fun.
And I can’t wait to get home.