Tuesday, August 18, 2015

This Dream I Once Had...

It was one of those dreams that began with only momentary confusion and disorientation

until I was suddenly filled with the knowledge of who my dream-self was, and where I

was. An entire life blinked into existence in a dream world, a feeling uncannily

similar to when I first wake up in the morning in the non-dreaming one.

I smiled and turned in the white down bed, under the down covers of the four post bed.

The morning sun from the large bay windows of the high rise slowly moved across the

beautiful wood floors to gently kiss us. I murmured contentedly and nuzzled up next to

him. He stirred slightly in his sleep, waking partially to run his hand along my back

and shoulder. He woke a bit more, turning to his nightstand to check the time. He

sighed and rolled back over to me, gently taking my head in his hand and kissing me on

the forehead. I murmured again and stretched like a cat. He ran his hands over the

front of my body as I did so, and I knew it was because my morning stretch always

aroused him. I could feel him harden as he bent over me to touch me, brushing me

softly and arousing me as well. I smiled and let out a soft hum of happiness. He

sighed, kissed me on the chest, and rolled off to the side of the bed.

I knew he had to fly out this morning, and was only a little sad to see him go. I took

time off when he came to town, and always had plenty to catch up on when he left. I

was free to live where I wanted to, free to move if work asked me to or if I just

wanted to find something new. I was even free to live in one of his places. And I had

visited them over the years, traveling all over the world. No matter where I was he

would come to me. Wherever I was was his home. He loved me, lusted for me, yearned for

me, missed me.

And I was beautiful.

In this dream something unusual was occurring. I was not dreaming of being anyone but

myself. I was not in a new body, I was not a different person. I had no special powers

or abilities. I was exactly who I was in the waking world, and he loved every inch of

me for it. And it made me feel beautiful, powerful, and happy.

He kissed me, sweetly, gently, but with conviction, in front of the giant bay window

of the bedroom as his driver loaded the car below. I could feel him getting hard as we

pressed together, his body begging him for mine. He was older than me, fairly well-off

and well-known. Some might even consider what we had slightly scandalous. We liked to

keep our displays of affection private for many reasons. He was a known lifelong

bachelor that kept to himself, constantly turning down advances, but politely

accepting dinner dates to entertain and accompany female friends at important events.

His presence with both long time and new female friends was viewed favorably by all.

We kept nothing from each other, and he only ever had eyes for me. I didn't mind that

only our closest friends knew about us. I wasn't looking for fame or glory... just...

him. He had pursued me, I knew. My dream, however, never enlightened me to the

circumstances of the courting. Regardless of his playboy appearance, I knew without a

doubt that I was his home.

He had told me some time before that he would not hesitate to make our relationship

public if I wanted it. I would be the only one, and the playboy life would be over. I

would be the one on his arm, and at all the events. I only had to say the word. I had

responded by telling him I enjoyed the freedom, and I knew he did too. I told him I

wouldn't ruin something so perfect, our individual happiness when apart and our

combined release and ecstasy when finally, briefly back together. One day we would

settle down, when we both know it is right. The raging fire of how strongly we burned

for each other, the brilliant light we cast as individuals... nothing could be more


We burned so bright that day. We were so, so beautiful...

I watched him get in his car. He took one last look up at the bay window and winked at

me. My stomach fluttered watching his face disappear inside the car, my body

shuddering it's own sighs of farewell as it recalled the previous night. The car drove away, and I

flopped myself down on the bed, considering what I wanted to do in the next few

months. I wasn't sold on my current job, but felt this city still had some exciting

things to show me. Maybe I could stop working for a bit, do some artwork and get a

gallery show together? I just got back from traveling, and definitely wanted to stay

in one place for a little bit... I drifted off as I considered my endless

possibilities. The memory of his touch caressed me in the back of my mind, my burning

desire for him slowing receding into hope and excitement for the adventures of my own

life... I was so happy, I was so beautiful, and I was myself...

My dream faded into wakefulness in the real world. I shuddered under the covers. He

always kept the room so cold... I opened my eyes, though I knew I didn't need to. The

bed was empty, the clock on his side reading a little after six in the morning. I

could see the line of sunlight barely bleeding through the edges of the thick, black

cloth blocking out the windows. It cast enough light in the dingy room to make out his

cheap, broken furniture, stained, stinking dirty clothes, mounds of trash next to

unopened packages of clothes I had bought for him, and the thick layer of dust on top

of it all. I felt disgusted at the familiar sight and closed my eyes. My ears began to

work, and I could hear the sound of a video clip from his computer playing in the

other room, accompanied by the sickeningly familiar sound of a beer can being crushed.

He had not yet been to bed. I shifted, feeling the tight grip of gravity on

my stiff body and the pain shooting up my feet and spine from the long hours and long years

of manual labor jobs.

Tears ran down my face as my dream came flooding back. I began to sob uncontrollably as I awoke

fully, aware of who I was, where I was, in pain, alone, and ugly.

And I was never beautiful again.

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