by joey friloux
i have a dream.
or at least i did, last night, bleeding into this morning and then fading away moments after i've awoken,
late again for work.
i'd wake in the middle of the dream, then force myself to resubmerge: a desperate attempt to live my other life
for a few moments longer.
my other life.
the one i only see during the after hours.
the life on the other side of the mirror.
the life where i'm successful.
the life where i'm important.
the life on the other side of the mirror where everything is the opposite of how it is for me on this side.
me: half-assing my way through a junior college education
him: graduating from the university this year
me: a blossoming junkie
him: a published photographer
me: a full-time employee, a full-time student struggling to make ends meet and just find any sliver of free time
him: established and successful, traveling the world, embarking on adventures, and saving damsels in undress.
i raise my head, look to my alarm and wonder why it's stopped going off.
i've punched the snooze one too many times.
i rub the gunk from my eyes and grasp for some shred of recollection.
and upon finding it, i thank God i'm not on the other side of that reflection.
no dead mother.
no ruined world.
no lost love.
no crushed dog.
no squandered job.
no undead stalkers.
no debilitating crash.
no tragedy so great that i can not cope with it.
here i'm in control.
here i'm responsible for the path my life takes.
the life on the other side, spiraling in random uncontrolled directions is not mine.
so i smile and nod to my reflection.
we shake hands,
and go our separate ways.