Dream a little dream of me...
In sleepy, dreamy world so much can happen. Over the past month or two, my dreams have been filled with terror, pain, fear, and the unknown; a swirl of subconscious garbage that apparently my brain didn't feel I was getting enough of in my waking hours. The dreams have been vivid some nights, dull the others, but I have pretty much been able to count on losing a certain amount of rest. And it's all because my brain thinks it knows what's best for me. Loser. I just want to have more dreams like the one I had last night.
This past week has been at least 50% positive, which is a great improvement on my emotions as of late. I had lunch with a friend for the first time in about a year. I had a couple really good, non-stressing conversations with some friends that lifted my spirits. Oddly, even though my heart doesn't know what gear it wants to be in, I found crazy reasons to look for romantic possibilities and found that it made me smile and randomly giggle. Jumping from one Lilly pad to the next, this week took that frown and turned it on its ear. So it's not surprising that last night I had a dream that I definitely did not want to wake up from.
It was dusk, that perfect time right as the sun begins to set when you feel like you are floating between two worlds. The fading light turns everything to brilliant and blazing orange, then a deep jeweled blue, and finally midnight. I always felt that in that brief time between light and dark, I could be someone else. I could have power over the trees, the energy in the room, the people I could envision. Powers to control, to overcome and to be more than just a single person seem real and possible in those murky moments of dusk. And there I was, in a strange bedroom at dusk with someone who, in the waking life, has been on my mind and becoming a closer friend.
It felt like that third or so date where you muster the courage to touch someone's arm or hand, maybe briefly lay a hand to their chest or shoulder. It was the scene where things go from being cordial and friendly to intense and intimate. He kept looking me in the eyes as he spoke, his intention and focus driving right through me. His body was focused and pointed directly at me and every word felt like liquid chocolate.
Then he reached out and touched me as he spoke, an action that he tried to mask as confident and casual but I could sense his anticipation. My body shook with it so I could definitely pick up on his. That touch, that light caress on my upper arm emanated throughout half my body. I the warmth spread down my arm and over to me chest, feeling as if his hands were exploring beyond that one spot. I couldn't help but glance at his hand on me, then quickly up at him. He carefully pulled his hand back to his side, never losing his confidence, never looking defeated.
I wanted more, just absolutely had to have it. My body ached for the touch of his warm hand on me again. I moved just slightly toward him, closing the gap by nearly imperceptible measures as we spoke.
The light continued to die away and take the little of him that I could see with it. Moment by moment he turned into just an outline, a form in front of me. Then, as dreams do, the scene jumped to complete darkness outside the windows and me on my back, laying stock straight underneath a shadowy form that I immediately recognized as the one who I'd just been speaking with.
He felt light over me, his weight being held by him and, thankfully, not my chest. His hands had granted my wish of a second appearance and were grasping lightly my upper arms. His face, his lips were so close to mine, his chocolatey voice was even quieter with less space to fill. His words were harmless, just words about nothing, but I could feel what he wanted from me, what he wished to do to me. I felt his warm breath get closer to my face as he searched for my lips. I wanted him to take my lips to his, I wanted to feel him all over me, but the options of movement and influence had been stripped from me.
I can't remember him kissing me in the dream. Maybe I woke up too soon, but I probably could have slept forever and it never would have gotten there. My dreams often end before I accomplish the goal that is defined. I woke wanting more of it, wanting to quickly go back to sleep before it was lost. I'm still laying in bed thinking and reminiscing about my dreamy affair because I don't want to go about my day and break the mental bond with the memory.
This dream won't last long, nothing does in my mind. But the passion, the exquisite intimacy of those brief moments that I shared with someone, even if they weren't real, were a gift that I will gladly cherish.
Thanks brain!
This past week has been at least 50% positive, which is a great improvement on my emotions as of late. I had lunch with a friend for the first time in about a year. I had a couple really good, non-stressing conversations with some friends that lifted my spirits. Oddly, even though my heart doesn't know what gear it wants to be in, I found crazy reasons to look for romantic possibilities and found that it made me smile and randomly giggle. Jumping from one Lilly pad to the next, this week took that frown and turned it on its ear. So it's not surprising that last night I had a dream that I definitely did not want to wake up from.
It was dusk, that perfect time right as the sun begins to set when you feel like you are floating between two worlds. The fading light turns everything to brilliant and blazing orange, then a deep jeweled blue, and finally midnight. I always felt that in that brief time between light and dark, I could be someone else. I could have power over the trees, the energy in the room, the people I could envision. Powers to control, to overcome and to be more than just a single person seem real and possible in those murky moments of dusk. And there I was, in a strange bedroom at dusk with someone who, in the waking life, has been on my mind and becoming a closer friend.
It felt like that third or so date where you muster the courage to touch someone's arm or hand, maybe briefly lay a hand to their chest or shoulder. It was the scene where things go from being cordial and friendly to intense and intimate. He kept looking me in the eyes as he spoke, his intention and focus driving right through me. His body was focused and pointed directly at me and every word felt like liquid chocolate.
Then he reached out and touched me as he spoke, an action that he tried to mask as confident and casual but I could sense his anticipation. My body shook with it so I could definitely pick up on his. That touch, that light caress on my upper arm emanated throughout half my body. I the warmth spread down my arm and over to me chest, feeling as if his hands were exploring beyond that one spot. I couldn't help but glance at his hand on me, then quickly up at him. He carefully pulled his hand back to his side, never losing his confidence, never looking defeated.
I wanted more, just absolutely had to have it. My body ached for the touch of his warm hand on me again. I moved just slightly toward him, closing the gap by nearly imperceptible measures as we spoke.
The light continued to die away and take the little of him that I could see with it. Moment by moment he turned into just an outline, a form in front of me. Then, as dreams do, the scene jumped to complete darkness outside the windows and me on my back, laying stock straight underneath a shadowy form that I immediately recognized as the one who I'd just been speaking with.
He felt light over me, his weight being held by him and, thankfully, not my chest. His hands had granted my wish of a second appearance and were grasping lightly my upper arms. His face, his lips were so close to mine, his chocolatey voice was even quieter with less space to fill. His words were harmless, just words about nothing, but I could feel what he wanted from me, what he wished to do to me. I felt his warm breath get closer to my face as he searched for my lips. I wanted him to take my lips to his, I wanted to feel him all over me, but the options of movement and influence had been stripped from me.
I can't remember him kissing me in the dream. Maybe I woke up too soon, but I probably could have slept forever and it never would have gotten there. My dreams often end before I accomplish the goal that is defined. I woke wanting more of it, wanting to quickly go back to sleep before it was lost. I'm still laying in bed thinking and reminiscing about my dreamy affair because I don't want to go about my day and break the mental bond with the memory.
This dream won't last long, nothing does in my mind. But the passion, the exquisite intimacy of those brief moments that I shared with someone, even if they weren't real, were a gift that I will gladly cherish.
Thanks brain!