When In My Dreams, I Met You

A dream is also a reality, a hidden power of the mind that holds the truth,” Cara often reflected on this belief whenever her thoughts wandered back to the strange dream from her past.

As a child, Cara had been bright yet naïve when she first encountered that vivid, bizarre dream. In it, she met a boy she believed to be a childhood playmate. He was quiet and reclusive, and while the other children rejected him, treating him as though he were mute due to his shy nature, Cara saw something different in him. She understood that he wasn’t disabled or unable to speak; he could communicate just like anyone else, but he seemed to keep to himself. Something about him drew her in—something no one else seemed to notice. There was a kind of mystery about him that fascinated her, a feeling that something significant lay hidden beneath the silence. It was as if she could feel his thoughts, his pain, and his unspoken words without him having to say a thing. There was an undeniable connection between them, a silent understanding that neither of them dared to fully articulate.

The boy shyly approached her, asking if she would play with him. From that moment on, Cara became his only playmate. They spent countless afternoons together in the dream world, creating a unique bond, a bond that Cara had never experienced before with anyone else.

Whenever they played together, the boy would smile—an innocent, sweet smile that reminded Cara of the simplicity and joy of strawberry ice cream, a smile so pure that it made her heart race. His kindness was always reserved just for her, and every time they shared a moment, he would offer her candy in exchange for a soft kiss on the cheek. The affection felt almost magical, as though they were in a world of their own, where everything seemed perfect and untouched by the harshness of reality.

But one day, as Cara woke up from yet another dream of playing with him, she felt an unfamiliar emptiness in her heart. She searched for him, hoping that somehow, he would be there in the waking world as if the dream world and reality had collided. However, she quickly realized that he was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had never existed in the real world at all. Over time, Cara understood that the only place she could meet him, the only place where their bond could exist, was within the confines of her dreams.

“Cara!” Her best friend Jean’s voice rang out as she entered the cafeteria, snapping Cara out of her thoughts.

“I knew it! The library is your hiding place!” Jean grinned playfully, but Cara, slightly startled, hushed her., trying to concentrate on the romance novel she had been reading.

“You’re the complete opposite of my childhood friend,” Cara whispered teasingly. Jean rolled her eyes at the comment, a familiar gesture that signified their long-standing friendship. “Oh, come on, not now. I’m reading,” Cara warned as she returned to her book, hoping to escape into its pages.

Jean, however, wasn’t one to give up so easily. “I still can’t believe you’re fixated on that boy in your dream! He’s just a dream, Cara. Dreams and reality are two separate things. You need to get back to reality before it’s too late!”

Cara’s mind wandered back to the time when she couldn’t find him in her dreams. The pain she felt was sharp—she cried uncontrollably, and her parents had tried everything they could think of to comfort her. But nothing helped. Frustration took root, growing into rebellion. She threw things in her room and picked fights with her nanny. Eventually, her parents took her to see a psychologist.

Years passed, and Cara’s therapy sessions continued, gradually shifting from Dr. Lopez—Jean's mother—to Jean herself, her best friend, who specialized in dream analysis. Jean had evolved from being her closest confidant to becoming her trusted therapist.

Despite Jean’s reassurances that the boy was nothing more than a figment of Cara’s subconscious, Cara couldn’t shake the belief that he was real. She still remembered his face as if she had seen it only yesterday.

“You know, Jean, I think you’re the one who needs to stop reading so many stories,” Cara teased, mimicking her friend’s voice with an exaggerated tone.

Jean raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you should stop reading fiction too. It could be influencing your dreams.”

Cara chuckled and closed the book, turning toward Jean. “Jean, I’m seriously considering zipping your mouth and putting it in my pocket until you can’t breathe!”

Still, despite the teasing, Cara couldn’t stop thinking about the boy from her dreams. His face remained vivid in her memory, refusing to fade, no matter how hard she tried to forget it.

Jean had suggested that the boy might have been someone from Cara’s childhood—someone she had met in the past. But Cara couldn’t recall meeting anyone who resembled him. There was a nagging emptiness in her memory that kept her from fully understanding who he was.

“Hmmm,” Jean had said thoughtfully, trying to reassure her. “It could just be a memory from your subconscious.”

But Cara felt something was missing, something crucial to the story, that she couldn’t quite grasp.

That evening, Cara returned home from class, still holding the book she had been reading. She was in her senior year of studying Psychology, and Jean, five years older and a professor at the same school, had always been her mentor, guiding her in both her personal and professional life.

“Mom, I’m home!” Cara called out as she entered, tossing her backpack onto her study desk. She collapsed onto her bed, still in her school clothes, mentally exhausted.

As she closed her eyes, her thoughts drifted back to the boy in her dream—the one she couldn’t forget. She had tried so hard to leave him behind, yet his face lingered in her mind, impossible to shake.

Dream Sequence:

Where was she? The place felt strangely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

She had thought she was home, but something felt off.

Wait a minute… this was a dream.

She recognized the playground—a place where she had once played with the boy, years ago. Strangely, nothing had changed. The seesaw and the slides stood just as they had in her childhood dreams.

But this time, there was someone else—a man standing with his back turned toward her. As she approached him, she felt a surge of recognition. Was this the boy from her past?

But as she neared, his face remained a blur. The closer she got, the more his image faded.

She woke up with a jolt, her heart pounding in her chest. Was that him? The boy from her dreams? No, it couldn’t be.

Yet, the doubt lingered. Who was the man in her dream?

“Hello, dear,” Jean’s voice echoed in her mind. “I need your expertise now. My unforgettable dream is back.”