I've always dreamed.
And last night it was perfect.
How can i dream of you when i have my own life and family? Why did I dream of you? At least they werent in existence there. That would be complicated, confusing and hurtful.
You were aloof. Then you wrote. Seven pages. You looked at me from across the room and i closed them even though they were loose pages. I have no idea what they said, even now as I am awake.
And then the perfection began to weave and connect.
Stitch by stich.
Little by little.
Moment by moment.
You didnt trust me and that was expected. But the wall came down.
And we walked.
We spoke, but not by mouth. We could read each other's minds; not with word. We read our faces. Read our story as it unfolded right there.
The touch was home. It was right. It was warm. It was electric. It was everything and nothing. It was supposed to happen.
It was nice.
And there is a longing but it can't happen. Yet, I am somehow in the right place right now when I am awake.
So tell me:
Is it because this is meant for our next life? Was here and now supposed to happen now to prepare us for that? Or was it just too early, yet we were drawn to each other?
Are we living now? Is it only you who is? And in the end, do you actually hate me? Did you ever?
Are we living now? Or am i sleeping and in my dreams am I truly awake?