//------------------------------//
// When My Dreams Come True 
// Story: And I Will Love You... 
// by Scootareader 
//------------------------------//

I am near, Bloomberg. Just a little longer.

Come to me, Tom. I’m waiting for you.

Nothing can express the excruciating wait that I have labored through to  be near him. It seems too uncanny that luck would bring me this close to him. There must be something more at work... a force I am unable to fully grasp. It is incredible to think that I, Tom the Rock, have traveled miles to be with a tree who I wasn’t even certain existed.

I am being watched over by something wonderful. I have to be. I have told this to Bloomberg, and he agrees: Our love is transcendent of the standard depth of reasoning.

Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that the earth would tear itself apart to bring us together.

And the earth is tearing itself apart—something has changed the climate. Much of the land is barren now, only the occasional scrub brush managing to peek its head above the blasted scenery to defy what fate has in store for the planet. None of it is green, only muted browns and dusky greys to camouflage them with the background. I imagine this would be to prevent predators from devouring the plants and their species going extinct.

Not that there are any animals anymore. I haven’t seen one in centuries. I imagine the herbivores either ran out of food or got overhunted by the carnivores, which then ate one another. Centuries spent watching the circle of life in action from my passive viewpoint, or seeing a herd of grass-eaters strip a field of anything above the earth... to suddenly see nothing alive or moving, apart from the ash that slowly falls like snow, is truly a stark contrast.

Bloomberg assures me that his home over the hill has felt very little of these effects. The ash never gathers up more than a foot or two before being blown away by powerful gusts of wind. The land is still green, the sun still shining, and the plants and animals still quite healthy. It is like an isolated paradise.

I am almost there. Just a little longer, my love.

As if my willpower called the very ground beneath me to action, I feel a groan from the planet. An earthquake is coming.

I anticipate finally being able to see Bloomberg, the true Bloomberg, instead of only a dream copy, a synthesis of imagination and hope. Soon, I won’t need to imagine, nor will hope be necessary; I will have him. He is my Bloomberg, my love, my dream partner and my inspiration. He is everything to me.

I will be there soon, Bloomberg... I will see you in mere minutes.

Come to me, Tom. I have to see you. I need to see you. I can’t wait any longer.

Nor can I wait any longer.

All my life, I have waited. Bloomberg is the first and the only thing I have ever dared to hope for. Perhaps love always finds a way. I believe that that is what has fueled this journey of mine. Luck can’t possibly move the earth and bring two stationary beings together.

There is a terrible rending sound as the hillside in front of me splits in half, the fissure arcing under the ground which I sit upon and making a convenient trough. It’s just too convenient to be luck. There has to be something more.

I begin rolling to where my love is, down the trough, directly through the small valley where a hill once stood proudly. I would have scoffed at such a thing as impossible before I met Bloomberg; now, it is the very thing which I have relied upon for so much of my journey.

Love found a way. Bloomberg is so close.

I have emerged on the other side of the hill, and am now rolling down an incline. I am not attempting to see the scenery around me; it would ruin the moment when I first see Bloomberg, truly see him. So much have I seen him in my dreams, I will know the moment I see him now. I’m certain of it.

Everything blurs around me, a conglomeration of color and vividness that becomes a sleety gray all around me. I am picking up speed as I roll, the excitement building with each revolution of my body. I am so close. So close. I know I am.

I start losing speed as the incline gets shallower and shallower, then disappears altogether. The incline then begins going the other way, slowing me swiftly. It doesn’t feel like very far to the top; I will make it over.

Suddenly, just as I am cresting the hill, I thud solidly against a tree trunk, stopping me in my tracks.

I am here.

I am touching him.

Bloomberg, I am here. I love you.

And I love you.

I shift my gaze to where I can see the love of my life.

Death stares grimly back at me.

Bloomberg... no.