Lizzy’s review published on Letterboxd:
A day or so ago, I had a dream. I had a dream I was in a body I could finally be at peace with, a body I've wanted and could finally feel right in. I was sitting in a bar within a store, and I was, for a moment, perceptibly alone. And then, across from me to the side, was you. You didn't seem like you were ready for a night out; wearing as little make-up as possible, hair not really brushed but not really messy either, and that was one of the many things I couldn't get enough of about you.
You were drinking water, and we were both seated side by side adjacent to the automatic doors, a cacophony of footsteps entering in from the twilight of the outside and onto the wood under our bar-stools mixed with the light rain and lamp-light flicker that's always present when I dream of things I can't have. There was no alcohol in my glass but looking at you, I felt drunk, like a mix between wanting to scream out my frustrations at passerby and wanting to drift on the counter and fade into my feelings. You were talking, I don't remember about what, but all I could focus on was the way you carried yourself. So elegantly and delicately, you were like a gust of ocean air that could've flown away if I looked too long. I always liked girls with wide eyes, and yours were the widest, a deep sea blue like mine.
After looking for so long, I could feel the ease on your lips, and the warmth that radiated from them from the passage of your breath between them. And all I wanted to do was kiss them, to kiss your face and hear you say soft things to me. To ask me questions and answer mine, and to be silent and enjoy the absence of song.
You were beautiful, and I felt beautiful, and all I wanted was to fall on you and absorb myself in every part of you so we could both be beautiful together.
It was a precious dream, and it's one I'll think about for the rest of tomorrow until it leaves my brain and I begin feeling sick for you again. And it will repeat. And when it repeats, I'll be sitting here writing about it again, again feeling sick for you.