These Dreams

It's late. The time has come to bury myself beneath low thread count cotton and billows of soft down. I'll sleep. But before conciousness fades, I hope that I can get through the night in peace. I'm scared of the visions I might see when I close my eyes.

The possibility of nightmares doesn't make me anxious. They only scare me until they pass away into the night. But the beautiful dreams, they haunt me even when I'm awake. They're what I remember, what I wish I could forget.

I fall asleep alone, but when I awake he's with me. There is no shouting, no silence, only security. We're okay. For a second, I think about our problems and wonder if we can really work. He folds me into his arms and my questions are gone. I run my fingertips along his forearm. He's solid, flesh and blood man in my midst. It can't be real, but it is. I can see him, hear him, feel him. I don't know how we got here, but I'll stay a while.

Then a sound in the distance pulls me away from him. And when I come back, he's fading from my sight. I try to reach him again, but something in me knows I won't. I blink, and he's gone for good. Suddenly, I'm aware of waking up. Sweet memories dance in my head and I want to relive them. My heart sinks with the realization it was just a dream, and I can't.