It's Still You (Remix of a Previous Post)

In my dream, we are dancing. All first you were behind me, swaying in time to the music, and I had my eyes closed with my arms over my head. I did not catch you moving your hands until I felt a sudden warm pressure on my right breast, and I jerk my head in surprise to see you looking back at me with a smile on your face. I cannot think of anything to say because this is the first time you have appeared in my night-wanderings, and you press close against me and whisper nonsense in my ear. I nod, pretending to that this all makes sense, and lean my head back on your shoulder. Your fingers are still splayed over my right breast, and no one seems to notice. I am hot everywhere, and my breaths keep hitching. My stomach turns. Enough dancing.

I turn to face you, my own hands grazing the outline of your hips, and let me wordless question hang in the air because I do not trust myself to speak in a steady voice. You understand and open your mouth to respond, but that is when I make myself wake up. I lay on my bed staring up at the ceiling, my heart pounding in my ears. I was so close. I was too close. I do not let myself go back to sleep to finish my dream's supposed events. Instead I slide out of bed and sit at my desk until you haunting afterimages eventually fade back into my mind again. I turn the lid a little tighter.

~~

The proverbial torch I hold for you has not gone away. It sits in my stomach, lingers at the back of my head, presses against my eyes. I have gotten used to it. The pressure has evolved into a vaguely comforting hum that gives me enough creative juice to write a short piece every now and then. I like to think you do not know. I tell myself I hide my feelings well enough so that only my very close friends can discern them. I do not talk about you to anyone anymore. I do not try to dance with you at parties. I do not try at all. I have maintained my control and sealed away my fantasies. I suppose this is why you suddenly appeared when I was sleeping some nights ago, a lovely manifestation of all my suppressed feelings, and there was no ambiguity as to why you were there. I had to act on my urges somewhere right? I would not be so unsettled by this were it not for the fact that I could not quite look you in the eye in class afterward. All I would do is project, and I did enough of that last year. I still want you. My dreams will simply have to do. There is no "for now" attitude attached to this end.