the window was my childhood home’s bathroom window in Madrid: a little wooden skylight I grew up peeking over every morning and every night.

the throw felt light, like throwing a small rock in the ocean. I waited a few seconds, then i looked over to find a blue bird. you know, like a magic trick. she goes out, a blue bird come back. the logic felt that simple in my dream.

but i didn’t. I instead saw her little body lying on the ground, lifeless. and i couldn’t look away. My gaze was frozen on her. i never meant to harm that child.

people started gathering around her, and that’s when i knew i had to run .

i ran and i ran and i ran, until i found myself in Paris.

you know how dreams dilate space and time like that.

i found myself at the door of my best friend’s home. her mother greeted me. and all i could do or say was apologize.

“i’m sorry, i thought she would turn into a blue bird” - i told her in french.

her mom didn’t know what i was talking about. i didn’t say anything else, my friend came through the door and hugged me. she was wearing the same clothes she wore the last time i saw her. black adidas track pants, oxfords and a white button up.

“i need somewhere to hide”. she smiled at me, hugged me goodbye, and handed me her bicycle.

i biked without rest through the streets of Paris, which in my dream looked like the streets of a village in Nepal, you know, and found myself at the summit of a Himalayan hill.

you know how dreams dilate space and time like that. a

i got off my bicycle, out of breath, finally safe. the view in front of me was green and massive. the horizon blended in a watercolor palette of blues, greens and greys.

i sat down. a deep breath later, a small royal blue bird landed on a small rock. right in front of me.

and that’s when i woke up.

i spent the day thinking about this dream. about the little girl and this blue bird. my mind flooded with a million questions about the meaning of it. I wonder what Freud would’ve said about my dream

What part of me did i try to save but ended up losing? why a blue bird? and why did it find me right when i thought all was lost?

how many times have I done that in my life? let go of someone, escape a city, farewell my friends, ruin a relationship, kill a version of myself… i tend to find the good in the bad, whatever is always a lesson and something good will come from it.

sometimes it does. sometimes it doesn’t. sometimes it takes year. and we realize while sitting on a hill, convinced we lost everything.