I woke up weeping this morning from the most vivid dream. All I remember is snatches – except for the last bit. I still grieve for the loss of something that I know wasn’t real, but I still can't shake this dream.
I can still feel the sensation of being so cherished, like I was a surprising gift that was recently discovered. The fleeting memories of a casual embrace that I started, and then you tentatively reciprocated. What was meant to be brief ended up as something else, something much more important. I can still feel you take the leap at the opportunity, and then wrap your arms tighter around me – drawing me in closer, not once but two times. I can still feel time stop … as we caught our breath and our heartbeats matched rhythms for the length of five slow beats. I felt and counted them with my cheek against your chest and my palms on your back. I can still sense how surprised you were, yet happily so, as you dipped your head down to my shoulder with the deep sigh that I echoed. I know how secure I was in the rightness of the impulse that led to this special moment out of time. Like all the words that we never could say and never needed to be now. We were finally where we were supposed to be.
I ache that I woke and don’t remember more.
All I can ask now, is
Where are you?