“D’you know what’s the worst thing about having a dream?” – he says.

I say nothing in response, ‘coz I know that it’s one of them questions that doesn’t require an answer. I just look into the sea, observe the crashing waves and wait for him to continue.

“The worst thing is that it can actually come true.”

He pronounces those words in whisper. I remain silent. I just notice a little tick in his eye. An almost invisible tick which appears when somebody is distressed. And from that moment on I can almost feel how the heavy weight of his secret crumbles down on my shoulders.

“Aim for what hurts. If you wanna get better – you’ve gotta aim for what hurts,” – I wanna say it out loud, but I only pronounce those words in my mind. I know that he knows. I know that this is precisely what he’s aiming for. I know there’s a secret lingering on his lips, waiting for the right moment to come out, but it isn’t quite ready to be revealed.

John is a handsome man, in his forties, with a mysterious smile on his face, and a number of hurtful experiences that have left a trace in a shape of a mistrustful glance and a judgementally raised eyebrow. Me, aged 28, still judgemental of judgement itself. Overly weary of it trying to enter my heart.

“I really wanna go dancing tonight, that’s all I wanna do.”

I say, not so much trying to change the subject, but more in an attempt to convey something that cannot be expressed in words.

“Through movement we heal. ” I think to myself. “That’s how we both could recover.”


I never got to know John’s secret, but to this day I feel how it weights down my shoulders, as if a sin that you have never committed, but always felt guilty for contemplating it.

He stands up and takes my hand like a real gentlemen should, helping me get up. We continue on our seaside walk in silence… And then – we dance. To the sound of the crashing waves – it’s like a dream come true.

He says: “D’you know what’s the worst thing about having a dream?”

I say nothing in response, ‘coz now I know the answer.

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