Set the time forward, and I am a well-reasoned, sleepy boy. Fall back, and I am a confused, well-rested boy. It is somewhat unnatural to tune the manmade construct of time to see light. Although a lit space brings me joy as the next person, I live to enjoy the darkness. The time change has brought a sooner shadow I take pleasure in using.
It starts when I lie back and stare. And wrap myself under blankets. I close my eyes and my heart takes flight, dreaming of the bes and would-bes that are and have been and in some warmth of consolidation, leave it to myself to be free.
Birds flutter in darkness—soaring to the moon’s cast and tumbling over, around, and under. Lights from the city dimly live, darkly enough so that I may see their beauty that is shaded in the daytime. I think I can hear the laugh of my hopes, and I can breathe lightly in this hour. Her curled flaxen hair rests near me, inviting stories and laughs to share. Her eyes are something of pale ruby, growing as I stare into them. My heart is mine to give but I hand it over, wrapped delicately and in bits of compliments and touches and smiles. I smile.
I turn over. A touch of my blanket lulls me deeply to my pillow. The night is cold, but I, under sheets and in imagination, am warm.
It is snowing. Something cinematic for me to pace my feet across. Some adventurous tragedy to befall tonight. Christmas, no matter how impossibly long away, has arrived. And I may carol and meet cliché fairytale characters, overly animated to good effect. The story I love visiting most often centers around a young, imaginative man. He is romantic in aspirations but must first prove his worth to the grumpy one or few. Life is great when your struggles are taken and placed within a relatable protagonist, so that for the time being, your struggles are reduced to fiction. Bedtime stories are nice.
Through all my imaginations, I am a sleepy boy. I turn, blinking to check for reality, and close my eyes one last time. The birds, lights, and hopes will live intricately tonight. I will sleep warmly tonight. And until the sun summons me, I will stay suspended in romanticisms known only in my head.