There's this boy, who I dreamt twice for sure.
The first was one of those odd colored dreams. I was by the sea, the cliffs, there were places to hide things in them. The boy was there, and his family: a few siblings and a grandmother I remember. I knew them already; I loved the boy. I was wearing my grandmother's ring, only it had small colored feathers attached to it. I left. I don't know why; only that it was extremely important. I only remember bits and pieces of the rest of the dream, but at the end, I came back to that same shore at sunset. I had been gone for a long time, but I was exactly the same. The boy and his family were gone. There were bones in the sand. I knew whose they were. I went over to the cliff and found a ring nearly identical to mine (I think the feathers were green and yellow). It wouldn't stay on any of my fingers so I put it on my thumb.
then I woke up, feeling rather sad.
The second dream begins with me in an elaborate gown, like they would wear in Elizabethan times. I am looking at a map of the united states. Different shades of orange blotches are spread across it. These colors represent different sects of the religion. I am the leader of the largest and most powerful sect, and therefore the queen of most of the continent. I have to meet with someone important, but I ignore that and walk out into the gardens. There is a spread of white and orange checkered tiles I walk across before I reach the edge and look over the city (I can't picture it clearly now, I've tried too hard to imagine it). There is a group of courtiers that have come into the garden with me. I can hear them talking and I ignore them. When I turn around, one of them smiles at me. a boy, very blond and snobbish looking. I don't know him. but then I realize that I recognize him from somewhere I can't quite remember. I meet with this boy again. he has changed: his skin is darker and his hair is dark and curly. but (as often happens in dreams) I am unsurprised. I know him now; it is the boy from the cliffs.
the rest of the dream switched to modern times; I think we were wandering around some ruins in the desert somewhere. it's a little hazy, but I was sorry to wake up.
Now that I think about it, the boys in my dreams often look like the boy from the cliffs, but I can't remember what his face looks like.
I read somewhere that we can only dream about faces that we've seen before.
I've never been one to believe that dreams are anything more than bits of imagination, but this makes me wonder if there's a boy like that who exists somewhere.