No Milk Today

By Pete Hong

This is fact not fiction

Again I wake alone in a vast sea of sheets. Eyes wide open: too afraid to close. Limbs lifeless: too afraid to move. A heart empty: too afraid to love. I had the weirdest dream last night. I was in my pyjamas running all around town looking for milk. The weird thing is I don’t even drink milk; not even in coffee. But in my dream it’s all I wanted, I couldn't live without it, it was like oxygen to me. I ran in and out of shops and bars in every suburb and city – they were all out. No matter how much I was willing to pay or what I willing to do – they said they were all out. I couldn’t believe it, so desperate, so deprived yet so rejected. Heartbroken, desolate…I felt impotent.

This was the first night since we had broken up that I hadn’t dreamt of her … 28 nights straight. 28 nights of her silhouette walking away from me. 28 nights of screaming her name – words that will never be heard. 28 nights without her hair in my face, without her perfume on my pillow.

After what felt like hours of lying on my back - like a murdered body stricken with rigor mortis – I shook off the numbness that ran through my body and finally mustered enough strength in my legs to get up. Remembering this dream I had, I swiftly got out of bed to get some milk. Chugging it straight from the bottle, not even tasting it I remembered – this milk is over 4 weeks old. I could feel the chunks of fermented milk stop going down my throat and now start going back in reverse.  

My relationship with girls is like milk in the fridge. When it’s there I feel safe, happy, fulfilled. I love her – for a day or a week - then I forget about her and soon she turns sour, cold and ruined. All I can do is watch as it is poured, every last drop, down the drain. When she’s not there, it’s all I crave, all I want, all I need.