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strawburygrl feels
strawburygrl feels
I just finished watching the most brilliant film, called "Sunshine", and it stars Ralph Fiennes. Now, as previously discussed, I have an enormous crush on Ralph. He just has the most amazing voice, and he is sooo beautiful. But the true star of this film was Valerie Sonnenschein, played as a young woman by Jennifer Ehle, the most radiant creature I have ever seen. I could spend eternity basking in the glow of her skin, her knowing smile. She was immaculate, phenomenal, brilliant. And watching the character as an old woman, you kept asking yourself, she *does* look *so* much like the young girl. But you can tell that it's not make up. Those wrinkles just glide effortlessly on her face. No, that's definitely not makeup. And it wasn't. imdb confirmed it. The elder Valerie was played by Jennifer Ehle's mother, Rosemary Harris. What a spectacular feat! I am amazed. I am humbled that there can be such beauty in the world that this film can capture it. It is stark sometimes, and the theme dark, but to watch Valerie, young or old, is just breathtaking. You really must see it, if you have 3 hours and can stand a brutal torture in a Nazi camp. I could not help remembering during that scene how Ralph had been so despicable in Schindler's List. Oh, what a film! I am positively floating.
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Story Posts so Far:
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Part 3 (eek, these just keep getting *longer*... i really had no idea when i decided to post this!)
The third time we met, he purposely walked into my dream�
Hawaii. Finally in Hawaii. We had returned, and were unpacking in our old house, the one with the amazingly thin walls that bowed when you leaned on them. My parents were standing over my shoulder, watching me unpack, and I was sobbing at the idea of being trapped here.
"Be happy, Mary, you�re home!" said my mother.
"Yes, you�re home, Mary," my father said. "Don�t you want to finally see all of those things you�ve been longing to see?"
Suddenly, the desire to see the outside world overwhelmed me, and I ran outside to see our yard. I ran to the base of our driveway to look over the hill and down the three miles to the ocean crashing at the shore there. The beach, I had to see the beach again! I ran and ran down the road, and that road became another road, this one spilling into the sand of Kahalu�u beach, and I was suddenly at the shore of this gentle cove, peering down into the water. I gazed out at the sea, past the protective reef that kept out the sharks, and out over the sea. I sighed in misery and joy at once. I turned to sweep my gaze over the sand, and there were my parents behind me, beaming at my mixed emotions. A tear slid down my cheek at this insanity. Finally, after all this time, for it to not be a dream! Only to have them here too, keeping me prisoner. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, waving them in the air as I cried.
Gentle hands caught mine, and stilled them at my sides. I opened my eyes, and through my sobs saw this unfamiliar man in front of me. He was in a royal blue Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, a floppy woven-palm hat covering his head, casting a shadow over his face. He stepped closer to me, and I could see his eyes for the first time, and I knew those eyes, those electric brown eyes.
I gasped at the sight of him, that familiarity of him. He was suddenly the most familiar thing here, and I longed to be in his arms. Instead, he let go of my hands and took a step back, glancing around at the scenery. He paused to view the ocean, as if admiring it. "It�s beautiful here," he murmured.
"Yes," I answered. "I had to see it again, after all this time. It calls to me."
He turned back to me, and saw my parents standing behind me. He frowned, looking back to me. "They bring you here," he said. "It�s not this place calling to you, it�s them forcing you back here, back to your childhood."
I gasped at the truth of his words. Around me, the water seemed to lose some of it�s sparkling luster, the sunshine dimmed a bit, and the palm trees seemed to sag. I whirled back to my parents. "It�s you! It�s always been you!" I advanced on them, and my mother�s smile faltered, my father�s replaced by rage.
I struck his chest. "You, you evil monster! It�s not enough to have her! You have to keep bringing me back here too!" Then I lunged at my mother. "And you! How can you stay with him! He is a monster! He hates! He terrorizes us! How can you help him do this to me?!" I gave out a long agonized scream, and collapsed into the warm sand.
My nameless companion came to kneel beside me, and wrapped me into his arms. "Shh. Hush. That�s enough for now," he said, gently rocking me. "Let�s leave now."
With that, the sand evaporated around me, to be replaced by cool hard-wood floors. I stopped my sobbing to take in my surroundings, and he rose and moved away from me. We were in a room like a mansion�s library, books in shelves everywhere, to the ceiling. A few tiny windows showed sunlight on grassy hills outside. There were a few cats sleeping in corners or grooming themselves on desks. As always, one wall was simply a deep darkness, a corridor to some other place.
I stopped my crying completely, and stood to look at him, fully five feet away from me, leaning against a desk and petting a cat. He was now dressed in a deep brown suit of the late 1800�s, complete with waist coat and watch chain slipped into a pocket. He had a matching brown derby atop his head, hiding his hair from view. He watched me with careful eyes, and I did not like the look in them.
"What�s wrong?" I asked, taking a step towards him. He moved away from me to keep the distance between us. "Why are you keeping away from me? Why are you staring like that?"
"I came to get you, because I thought we should talk. But I�m still afraid of you," he answered, now leaning against a hearth with a low fire in it.
"You�re afraid of me?" I asked, astonished. "Why on earth should you fear me?"
"Because although I know more about what�s going on than you do, you have done things to me that baffle me. You have altered my reality without even trying," he said. His eyes looked pained as he watched me.
I thought I would cry, seeing that pain in his gorgeous eyes. "Oh, please," I whispered. "Please don�t fear me. Please don�t stay away from me. I can�t bear it, I can�t!" Tears began to slide down my cheeks once more.
Something wrenched inside of him at the sight of my tears, and in a moment he was there in front of me. His hands hovered over my cheeks without touching, and he sighed in despair. His eyes searched mine, and then finally he seemed to give up, and he carefully brushed a tear from my cheek with his thumb. When nothing horrible happened, he relaxed a bit, and put both hands to my face, stroking away my tears with his thumbs. "How can I fear you indeed?" he murmured, looking down into my eyes, as if searching for the answer.
I brought my hands up to cover his, but he stiffened and I paused. He did not back away, or say anything to stop me, so I softly placed my hands on top of his. We sighed simultaneously at this warmth between us. I felt it flow from our hands to every crevice of my being, but instead of dissipating out from my toes like it wanted, I felt a thin wall surround it, keeping it sealed up deep in my gut, in my soul. I opened my eyes that I hadn�t realized were closed, and looked at him, questioning. He gave a little nod, and I knew that the wall was his making. He was somehow keeping this power at bay that wanted desperately to flow from me and consume the place.
I stepped back, but his hands remained locked to mine. I relented, and merely looked around me. Everything was as it had been before, the room, the cats, his clothes. But me, I had changed. Instead of my granny nightgown, I was dressed in skirts of deep green, edged in white lace. My bosom once again confined to corset that was not uncomfortable, my hair a mass of curls on top of my head. "I did this?" I asked, lifting my head to look at him.
He nodded, bringing me into his arms. "I am keeping the power welling inside of you at bay, so that it will not flood out and alter this reality," he said.
"Yes, I can feel that," I said. "Is it hard to do? Is it painful?"
He shook his head, then planted a kiss on my forehead. "But I am afraid to let you go. I think I have to be touching you to keep this up."
I frowned. "Well, we very well can�t stay locked in each other�s arms all day."
He grinned then, and bent to nuzzle my neck with his lips. "And why not?" he asked.
I sighed against him, a smile spreading across my face. But instead of melting into him, I put my hands to his chest and firmly pushed him away. His hands desperately flew to mine, as if he would fall without me. I let him stay at arms length. "No, we have to talk," I said.
He sighed then, and led me over to a small leather couch. I put my legs over his, so that I could sit sideways and look at him, without us having to clutch each other to keep from breaking the connection. A cat jumped up onto my skirts, and I began to pet it�s soft gray fur to make it purr. He smiled, and joined me to pet the cat as well.
"First," I began. "Why does it matter to keep this power bottled up? It wants out, to touch the world. Would something created by our touch be so awful to unleash?"
He took my hand in his, then pressed my palm to his lips for a kiss. "My sweet, your power is not caused by our touch. My power simply leaps out to meet your own and call it forth. I can call mine back, but you are untrained, and it spills forth in a great flood over everything." He sighed then. "You must control it. It is overwhelming to be changed so much as you changed me last time."
I looked at his face, trying to discern the emotions that fought there. "It was the vampire, wasn�t it?" I asked. "It horrified you."
Slowly, a sheepish grin crept across his face. "No, I assure you, it didn�t. It was� frightening at first," he admitted. "But I loved it. You see, I must confess, I have longed to be a vampire for a very long time, only I never could do it."
I raised my eyebrows. "What do you mean, you couldn�t do it?"
"I have been working with my power for years, developing these fantasies to play with. But never have I been able to change my physical form the way you did. My hair has always been the same, my body always the same. It�s just the costumes and the surroundings that are different."
At his words, some realization occurred inside of me. "I think, my darling, that maybe I have more control over this than we think. Get me a mirror."
Without pause, he reached out and a mirror appeared in his hand. He handed it to me. I gazed at my face, and gasped. I had guessed, from my lightness in his arms, and my slender waist, but the mirror confirmed it. My image gazed back at me with my own green eyes, but from within a thin, beautiful version of my naturally chubby face. The ringlets on my head were the deepest burgundy that years of trips to the salon had never quite captured. I looked back at him and whispered, "I have been working all these years instead to change myself."
His eyebrows knit together in confusion, and slowly some realization struck him. "You mean, this isn�t what you look like?"
I gave a little shake of my head. "No, I�m not thin in real life. And my hair is not this perfect burgundy, only a pale comparison that the hair dresser tries to make out of my vision of perfection. And I think I�m taller here." I suddenly stood up, a bit bewildered at it all. "My god, what the hell is this place? How can I have this power?"
He had clamored after me, barely keeping a hold on my hand as he followed to his feet to stand beside me. "Calm down, it�s all right. We�ll talk about the dreaming in a bit, just stay calm." He wrapped his arms around me as he murmured softly to me.
I looked at him in fresh horror. "What dreaming? Do you mean this is a dream?!"
His eyes went wide with fear, and he clutched at me too tightly. "No!" he cried out. "Don�t go yet! Every time you realize it�s a dream, you wake up and leave me!"
I just stood there, staring at him in horror. Nothing was happening. I wasn�t "waking up" or going away, or whatever he was afraid of. I was too confused by this. "What the hell are you talking about? How can I be dreaming?"
He just stood there, clutching me in his arms, his eyes desperately darting back and forth over my face, as if confirming I was really here. Something in me softened at that look on his face, and I was not horrified any longer. I relaxed into his arms, waiting for him to return to his senses as well. He seemed to calm as I did, until he was smiling softly at me. "You�re not leaving," he said.
I smiled back. "I don�t think so."
"I tried to find you as soon as I went to sleep, so that we would have the most time as possible to be together, but it took me so long to find you," he said.
I thought back to Hawaii. I could not remember anything before it. "I had not been here very long before you found me. If this is really a dream, I think you caught me during my first one. Maybe I went to sleep after you?"
He gave a nod. "It is Saturday night, so you were staying up late while I was going to bed early to be with you as soon as possible." He gave a small laugh. "You had me worried there for a minute, but now we have all night, and a long Sunday morning to dream together."
"It�s Saturday night?" I asked. "How do you know what day it is? You�re aware of what�s going on outside of here?"
His eyes narrowed, and he just looked at me without answering. Finally, he nodded, but that was all.
I tried to push away from him, my eyes wide with fresh horror as I realized I didn�t know anything about myself or my life. My mind was an empty void, only the knowledge of this place and what I really looked like filling the space. He would not let me leave his arms despite my struggle. "How do you know?! Do you know who you are? My god, I don�t know who I am!"
"Hush now," he cooed, trying to console me. "Mary. Your name is Mary."
I stopped suddenly. I knew that. How did I know that? How did he? "How did you know that?" I asked.
He just looked at me, then he answered, "Your father said it. He called you Mary."
I closed my eyes and let out a relieved sigh. "Yes, my father. I remember now, my name is Mary, and I have parents." I looked at him. "I don�t remember anything else."
He led me back to sit with him on the couch, and he smoothed back the hair that had fallen out of place in my struggles. "You will, Mary. You will remember. Just not tonight."
I watched him as he tried to soothe me, and calm came over me like a warm blanket. I moved to cuddle into his awaiting arms. "How do I remember?" I whispered. "It�s so frightening."
"Do not be afraid. It�s simply your first time dealing with the knowledge that you�re dreaming, that�s all." He leaned down and planted the softest of kisses on my lips. "Next time, you will be prepared, and you will remember."
"How do I prepare? How do I remember?"
"First, you have to remember me, remember all of this, when you awaken. Once you�ve done that, then when you go back to sleep, cling tight to the knowledge of yourself. Don�t let sleep just take you over. Think of yourself and your life and the things you want to know about yourself, like a little movie in your head to lull you to sleep, that is the easiest way. After a few times, you won�t have to really try, you�ll remember it all like you should." He placed another kiss on my lips, and I sighed against him.
Why should we be talking about some other place, some other reality, when we had this? We had each other here and now. This beautiful, beautiful man was cradling me in his arms. What did the rest of the world matter? I kissed him this time, and whispered in a sigh against his lips, "Who are you? What�s your name?"
He kissed me again, this time with some urgency to it, and being in his lap, I felt his penis swell against me. I gasped as a wave of desire crashed through me, and painfully moved from his embrace. I met his eyes, and there was a heat there for me that I longed to bathe in. I closed my eyes to steady myself, then put my hand against his chest. Holding him back, or trying to call him to me, I couldn�t tell. "If this is all a dream," I started, "Then how can I tell if what we�re doing is right?"
"How can it not be? In all my years of dreaming, I have never met another real person before. And here you are, returning to me a third night. This can be no accident, what is between us."
I searched his face, looking for some confirmation for what he said, but it was not necessary. In my heart, I had already begun to believe what he had said, well before he said it. I think I was looking to see if he also felt the same about how important he was becoming to me. Instead, I asked, "Tell me who you are."
His face suddenly became guarded. Was he afraid of me again? "No," he said simply.
I looked at him in confusion. "Why not? I thought� I thought you meant that I was important to you?" This last I almost whispered, and there were tears in my eyes.
Now he looked pained, and his hands raised to my face. "Of course you�re important to me." He leaned in and kissed me lightly. "I live and breath to dream of you."
My breath caught at the intensity of emotion in his words, on his face. I believed him implicitly, and the knowledge brought joy to me. But I was still so confused. "Then why? Why can�t you tell me who you are?"
He sighed then, and wiped away the single tear that had slipped to my cheek. "Because I don�t think you could handle it," he answered. "I don�t think you�re ready for that information yet."
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"I just� Look, there�s so much more here for you to learn, about your powers in this place, don�t you want to know about all that?"
"Of course I do. But how can I trust you if I don�t know your name?"
He just looked at me. "You don�t trust me?"
I felt shamed at having lied to him. "Of course I do. I completely trust you." I sighed and kissed him. "I just don�t know why. Are you doing it? Is that something you can do to me?"
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, and I knew that the thought had never crossed his mind. "I� I don�t think so. I don�t know." He just looked at me for a bit, thinking. Then, "No, I don�t think I am. I am only using my power to hold in yours, and to maintain this room from disappearing into the chaos."
I thought about this. "Maybe it�s your power holding mine in? Maybe it has some other effects on me too?"
He looked hurt. "This is the first time I have done this for you. Have you not trusted me until now? Have you not felt the truth about us until this time?"
Again I felt shame for having hurt him. He was completely right. From that first moment I had seen him as Robin Hood, I had trusted him completely. "No, no. You are completely right, I trust you implicitly. I�m sorry."
He hugged me to him, and nuzzled his face against my hair. "So you think I can�t know who you are then? Not yet?" I asked.
"No, not yet. You must trust me in that."
"I do, I will, but�"
"It�s hard."
"Yes, very." I pulled away a bit, so I could look into his eyes. "It�s because we know each other, isn�t it?"
He just looked at me, then slowly he nodded.
I sighed. "You were not in the dream yet when my father said my name, yet you knew my name was Mary." I sighed again. "I want to know your name, I want to sing it to the gods�"
He crushed me to him then, kissing my hair, then my face, over and over. "I will sing yours instead," he murmured, and I think he was crying this time.
I stilled his kisses with one of my own, covering his mouth with my own in a loving kiss. Was this love? Yes, I think it was. I held his face in my hands, away from mine to look into his eyes. "Enough of this now. I trust you completely, but we are loosing time, and you must teach me to control this power before our next visit."
"Agreed," he said, standing and pulling me to his feet. "Close your eyes," he told me, and I did.
Then, carefully, he had me flex my power outward. He slowly decreased his wall around me, until instead it was a shield around him, and my power was free to seethe around the rest of the room. I felt it flowing out around me, changing the room to it�s will. The room was now evening in some Caribbean land, complete with rattan furniture and crickets chirping at the windows.
Before my power "dissipated" as previously, he urged me to coax it back into myself. My eyes closed again, I willed the power back into me, and it came easily. It flickered, however, lashing at the edges of my being, restless to be out again. His shield enveloped me again, and I sagged into his arms. "It�s so easy, and yet so hard!"
He kissed my forehead. "Practice, that�s all you need. Rest a moment, and we will try again."
But before we could, I felt his arms slip from me, and I looked to see why he had let go. He was standing there before me, but was like some dimming image, losing clarity. He was waking up! The surprise of it was on what little of his face I could still see.
"No!" I cried out, trying to catch what little of him was left.
"Mary! Remember! Remember our dream when you wake!" And then he was gone.
"No!" I shouted, my power flooding from me, as if trying to find him and call him back. "No, don�t leave! No!!!"
I awoke yelling in my own bed, my startled husband beside me, trying to take me into his arms. But I didn�t want his arms, I wanted my nameless dream lover to hold me. He had wanted me to remember, and I did. I was inconsolable.
