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Letters to Nowhere

Friday, June 25, 2004

3rd person dreaming

My dreams are always vivid and very detailed, usually disturbing and uncomfortable for one reason or another. This has been a bit less true recently, as I dream of my beau fairly often. Some of those dreams have not been happy dreams. They have been, in the past, mildly violent or emotionally devistating, but that is a minority where he's concerned now. We've gotten to know each other better, steadily, day by day, and I've come to trust him.

I've had a week of very late nights with little sleep, so I was tired when I got home today. (No Les, that is not all your fault either. I'm having trouble sleeping again) I sent him a few offlines and pm'd briefly with him before I gave in and laid down on the sofa for a nap. Here is my dream of the day... Yes, I dream in 3rd person... so what! lol

She steps off the plane 2800 miles from home. The furthest she’s ever been from home before is a few hundred miles. God, she’s nervous. Where‘s the air sickness bag when you need it she jokes to herself. She stops to check her hair and makeup for the hundredth time in the last hour.
She loves him.. Now, she just has to meet him. Not for the first time she asks herself what the hell she’s doing here.. Is she crazy? What if he doesn’t like her in person? Ha.. She knows that is a very remote possibility. She stops in the jet way again, other passengers jostling, and pushing past. Fighting to regain some iota of composure. She knows this is ridiculous. She knows this man, loves this man, believes in this man. It helps to think he’s probably having this same mental battle.
The next hundred feet may change her life. No pressure or anything! “Get moving girl” she whispers to herself. “He’s out there waiting, worried, scanning the faces”. As she finally steps into the terminal proper another wave of panic rushes over her. He can probably see her. What’s he thinking? She quickly looks over the waiting people.. She looks past him before it registers.. Swinging her eyes back to him she feels the knot in her stomach twist just a bit tighter. His face is unreadable at this distance and her step falters. This is it.. for good or ill. There is no going back to the way things were between them yesterday. This both terrifies and exhilarates her. She starts forward again. He looks just as she knew he would, small differences are there, but nothing surprising or disappointing. He stands stiffly, formally, as she approaches, a smile blooming on her face. She can sense him relax a bit with relief as her smile flourishes and eases the lines of stress on her face.
Suddenly, she is there standing before him. She shrugs out of the strap of her carry on bag. Close enough to touch him. One step further and she reaches out her hand and places it on his chest.. “I can’t believe it” She laughs nervously, “I’m actually touching you”. He folds her into his embrace. And suddenly, It is ok. Most of the apprehension and doubt that she’s been consumed by for the last 13 hours leaves her. This is the man she’s come to know and love. It’s going to be fine. Looking up at him she’s relieved to see his eyes soften, to see emotion. Emotion for her. His hand closes over hers and he brings it to his lips, bending almost formally over it before placing his lips to it. “How was the trip” he asks. She says the first thing that comes to mind, “Stressful and long, lets get the luggage, I’ve seen enough of airports to last me awhile”.
“I’m glad you came. It’s wonderful to see you, to have you here with me.” He says.
“So, am I. And thank you” she manages.
She takes his hand, and they begin walking passing people but seeing no one but each other. She is suddenly hit by an all but overwhelming desire to pull him into a near by corner and kiss him. Slowly, thoroughly, tentatively at first, tasting him, exploring his mouth, a kiss to make the world stand still. The only thing that stops her is the knowledge that she would likely be so weak kneed that she would sink to the ground. Just thinking about it, brings blood to her face, and warmth spreads from her belly. She must have missed his last question, he’s looking at her quizzically. She blushes under his gaze, and stammers some inane response to the last thing she remembers hearing him say. She quickly glances up at him and sees the small knowing smile playing on his lips. She feels as if he has read her very thoughts. Blushing even more strongly she cant stop the next thought “That’s the same small smile I’ll see soon.. Probably in the morning.. The smile that says “I know what you taste like, I’ve heard you cry out my name”. The walk to the luggage carousel is a kind of slow hell. Her mind refuses to let go of the image of his lips on her. She can feel the seam of her jeans rubbing her. That sensitive saddle of flesh is suddenly more plump and she is aware of her sexuality in a way that is both unsettling and rewarding. She wonders if he’s having the same inner battle she is. Even her hand and fingers, entwined in his, seem more sensitive.. She can feel his thumb caressing the back of her hand.
They talk of minor, inconsequential things as they find and retrieve her luggage. She is loath to release his hand. Breaking that physical connection causes some small pain. Gods, how long has she wanted to be with him, to touch him, hear his voice. She can’t get enough of him. They talk about nothing that matters. Almost as if they are saving the important things, denying the pleasure of hearing the words they’ve spoken so often when they were apart. They talk about the weather, the trip, how his drive was, where they want to go and what they want to see, what her son will be doing while she‘s gone. She is suddenly all too aware of the vicious speed of the passing time. It’s working against her already. She has 7 days. Seven days.. It seems far too short to say the things she wants, to hear the things she longs too. Seven days to make up for time they’ve ached for each other in the past. Seven days to build memories that will have to make due when they long for each other in the future.

And that ladies and gents is where I woke up. Damn, I've got it bad dont I? lol See, even I can be sappy ;) Oh well.. what will be, will be.


  • I've had that dream... lived that dream... and I hope and pray that yours does not end like mine... I truly do hun... now I have to go get a friggin kleenex...

    By Blogger Rae, at 6:09 PM  

  • I can't wait til you've lived it. The love comes through so clearly in your dreams.

    By Blogger Anna, at 7:56 PM  

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