Roxanne This content has been archived. It may no longer be relevant
I had a dream once about the colosseum.
He was there looking extra pristine, my big brother, Gabriel.
“Let the race to stand beside Georgiana begin!” A thunderous voice echoed through the arena beckoning every knight and soldier to fight.
Madison turned to me, “Is this okay?”
“Of course not!” Lilly with a tight fist objected. “You should fight for yourself!”
In the dream, I saw familiar faces. I saw the faces of every guy I’d ever encountered, each with their own agenda. Who is my specific champion?
“Are you alright letting them take control?”
No.
I am my own champion.
Rhett
Rhett was one of many faces I was gladly surprised to see. As far as either of us are concerned, we don’t have any concrete connections. Seeing him earnestly compete in a dream, I knew, was my personal wish.
Since graduating high school, seeing him gradually became a vitamin source for my waning resolve especially after entering art school. Every Sunday morning was filled with renewed energy. I felt rejuvenated just from the sight of him and with that, I was ready to tackle the coming week. And as I struggled through my second year, I was greatly thankful for his presence even if he had no idea how Godsend he was.
It didn’t matter that I couldn’t connect well with my classmates or that assignments became difficult and redundant as long as Sundays existed.
But everyone leaves at some point.