Amurehna

Liam and Jack are recurring dream characters of mine. Liam always leaves me in a state of awe, like seeing a deceased loved one. When Jack appears, it's like...seeing a friend you haven't seen in a long time. Sometimes he's an ass. With Liam I'm always vividly aware, I can hear his voice. Feel textures. It's like becoming lucid. Jack is always more about emotions or situations.
Saja is a facet of my personality. Sometimes I become her when I dream. She belongs to Liam.

I find myself walking down the hall in my new apartment. I see a man kneeling at the foot of my bed, he's strikingly familiar. Dark-haired, wearing a plaid shirt and black jeans. This should immediately make me think of Jack, but I can't seem to think of his name. I go into my room, which is larger. The closet doors are open and there's a large alcove at the foot of the bed. I regard him with some fascination, as I always do. There's a random person hanging out by one of the windows, and also a man laying before him. My ex? This is important, my time to explain. Because when I step up beside him I am not myself. I am Saja. I want to tell my ex, and Jack about how there's this whole other person hiding in my subconscious, that takes over when I'm dreaming. When I step up beside him he addresses me, though he continues to stare forward into the alcove.
"I've...come a long way to find you." He sounds strained and a little hesitant, "Do you...know who I am?"
I never get a clear look at his face, only his mouth. Everything feels slow and perfect as I drop to my knees in front of him, uncertain. He is familiar, for sure. No one could have come further than Liam, though. And because I am so firmly Saja right now, and not myself. I breathe Liam's name with a sad kind of reverence.
Jack hesitates. His stark, angry disbelief ripples through the air, striking me like a slap. My mistake leaves me cold and a little ashamed.
Jack's mouth twists into a slight sneer. "Liam. Always Liam. He isn't even real. Just a fantasy you've built into a man." He's trying to shame me because I've hurt him. I'm embarrassed and I want to counter his statement. Liam is just as real to me as he is. What about all the times of I've seen him? With his fire-like hair and crooked smile?
I don't speak, just convey my recognition. I KNOW him, but I'm afraid to call him Jack, just in case I am wrong.
A moment later Jack gives lie to his pronouncement of Liam being a fabrication.
His voice is low and intense, "Do you think he would have done the things I've done for you?" He wants to show me what he's done, and rips his shirt off. Because of the drama behind the action I expect to see some sort of scar to represent his sacrifice. There is nothing, though. His skin is pale and smooth. That doesn't mean it isn't there, only that I can't see it. I regard him silently and give him a small smile, pressing my mouth to his by way of apology.
There's a confusing sequence, in which I am doing things but also not doing them at the same time. My sister arrives to make fun of me for my actions. I make excuses for my behavior but my shame sharp. I leave the room instead, hoping she will forget. I go out into the living room, I suddenly have a grey cat. I've had him for a week, I realize. I frown...realizing there isn't a litter box. How could I have forgotten? I find my sister in my room, except now it's her son's room. She's cuddling with her own cat, a long haired grey female.
I tell her I somehow forgot she had a cat. I initially felt like a jerk for forgetting a litter box for my cat, then relieved that there was one in the house.


There was also some weird thing about being in a bar, and the drunken masses choosing sober people to 'ride the wave'. They would pick us at random, swinging us into the air with wild abandon, like crowd surfing. Then buy us a drink afterward.
I meet a man who looks a little like Neil Patrick Harris, who endured the swinging, just for the drunken people to offer him a drink. Just like they did for me moments before. He introduces himself as Jack. I smile a little, knowing he isn't my jack but wishing he was.