Last night you came to me in my dream.
I was quite surprised in a way that the mind tries to search for meaning like a grocery store list, each reason collecting another check mark next to the item, knowing that when I get to the bottom there will be nothing left—no explanation to bring me comfort. It felt right and wrong all at once. But it was a dream…
Lies would pour from my mouth if I ever attempted to not acknowledge the goosebumps that ran down my arms from shoulder to index finger, creating in me a tingle of magic when you said the name of your favorite book. I recall being stunned into a mute state, my brain processing far too quickly to formulate any proper sentence. After an uncomfortably long pause, I said, “It’s mine as well.” I knew something, we both did. The body knew it then, and the body knows it now as I welcomed you into my dream last night.
I can’t quite replay it all except the feeling and the one detail that keeps my thoughts hostage all day…
But it’s a dream, and I am pulled from it slowly as I come into consciousness and my eyes begin to flutter open. It’s 5 a.m. I am in my bed alone. You belong to another. But for a night, you were mine, even if I consciously don’t understand why.
