Cruel to be Kind – Letters to Cleo

I had a dream last night. It was… weird. I was an actor, on a film set, filming a film. That’s not weird, obviously. That’s just what I want from life. I dream about that all the time. But in this dream I was filming a film about these high-schoolers – American high-schoolers – and there was some kind of dare between the guy and the girl, like every decent teen movie ever made, and I was playing the friend of the guy.

Suddenly, in the middle of the film the main guy turned around to me and said, ‘You fancy me, don’t you?’. It wasn’t in the script so I just froze and said, ‘What?’ with a little chuckle, to try and deflect. It didn’t work. He said, ‘I can tell you’re gay and I can tell you fancy me.’ I was in complete shock. I felt the burning eyes of what seemed like a thousand actors, crew members, the camera operator, director, there was an orchestra for some reason (why was there an orchestra?) and they were all staring at me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. I could tell that they all knew. They knew I’m gay. All I could do was splutter a feeble ‘no’ but they just kept looking at me like I was the biggest joke.

I realised where I was. I was in the quad of the school that they used in Buffy and She’s All That and Not Another Teen Movie. The one that looks kind of Spanish in style, with the steps up to the top walkway and the fountain. I suddenly became aware that I was standing there in just my boxers. Everyone was still looking. And they knew I’m gay. And I was in my fucking boxers. And I started to slowly step backwards, but I forgot that the fountain was there and I fell, back, into the fountain.

I was tumbling through an endless night sky, deep blue and studded with crystals. I was falling slowly, as if in water, but all I felt around me was air. Thick and heavy, scented with incense and cardamom. I could feel it moving through my hair, but it wasn’t like wind it was more like fingers.

Fingers through my hair.

It felt warm and electric.

Exhilarating.

Comforting.

I slowed to a stop.

I was not standing.

There was no ground. No up, no down. I just

Stopped.

The atmosphere around me began to transform. I don’t mean that it became a new atmosphere, but it actually metamorphosed. It remoulded into a figure. The night sky in a human form. The edges were vague, there was no face, but it was unmistakably a figure.

It reached an arm out to me.

A hand.

Fingertips.

And then I woke up.

Like, it’s not going to take a genius to interpret it, let’s be real. But still…

Weird.