The world was a muted canvas for me in that moment. Sounds, once vibrant symphonies of electric guitars, drums and masculine sirens, were reduced to a dull hum. Colors, a riotous festival of nature, were now muted greys and browns. People, once surrounding in a community of journeys, were flat, like characters in a poorly written script. I moved through these days in a fog, a ghost in my own life.

It was a solitude born not of choice, but of a defensive mechanism honed over years. A heart repeatedly bruised, a spirit repeatedly tested, had retreated into itself, seeking refuge in an emotional numbness. Love, joy, sorrow, anger—these were foreign lands to me now unless brought to the surface in pain. I didn't want anyone to reach in and pull my emotions forward, yet they came. Sometimes they were overwhelming and others I destroyed myself to feel alive again. 

Yet, in the midst of my trauma, there was an island in this desolate sea. He was a splash of color in the monochrome world. There was one person who could make me feel safe. This one person who was not mine. One person who could not meet me where I longed to be. I distanced myself before I realized I had done so.

With him, the fog would often be lifted. The world, suddenly, would be awash in hues I'd forgotten existed. The hum of life transformed into a melodious symphony. Laughter, a sound once alien, became a familiar and cherished melody. My heart, like a dormant volcano, stirred at the mere touch of their gaze.

In their presence, there were moments that I was alive. I felt the warmth of his smile as a sunbeam cutting through a winter's gloom. His laughter was the gentle rain that nourished my parched soul. Their tears, a mirror to my own vulnerability, unlocked emotions I had buried, but they found them. Emotions forbidden, and I didn't want to feel. 

He was a contradiction, a paradox. A man lost in a world of shadows, yet ablaze in the sunlight of one soul. The question gnawed at me: was he truly alive, or was he simply a ghost haunting the edges of my life?

He was my lighthouse, guiding me through the stormy seas of the mind. But what if the storm was too strong, even for his light? The fear of losing him was a constant undercurrent, a threat to the fragile balance I had found.

I clung to his energy, a lifeline in my tempestuous ocean. And yet, a part of myself yearned for the courage to step out of the shadows, to embrace the storm, and to discover if there was a life beyond the island of the unknown. What would happen if I let go? Would I drown? Part of me wanted the undercurrent to end it all. This pain was so deep and I wanted to finish the journey.

It was a perilous journey, one I was terrified to embark on. But the hope of a world beyond numbness, a world filled with color and sound and feeling, was a siren song that called to me from the distant lands.

For now, I would hold on to the dreamscape, letting his energy anchor me, using his compass. But the horizon beckoned, and I know that one day, I will have to step into the ocean of my own, despite my fears of drowning there. 

- Barbara xx