Mar. 2nd, 2007

pairika: (Default)

Last night, I dreamed about an ex-lover.

It was a shadowy dream that I woke up with and affected me all day; leaving me disconcerted and pondering.  Recalling the feelings was like recognizing people you haven't seen in a long time.   They resurged, washed over me and seeped in again.  Remarkable how you always *think* you've forgotten...

It was nighttime. I seemed to be staying over someone else's house, along with a couple of others.  We were all lodged in separate bedrooms.  At some point, I carefully noted B. (the ex-) was in a room down the hall.  The sounds of the other people were audible, moving, muffled talking behind closed doors, like a dorm... I left my room to use the bathroom to get ready for bed.  When I returned to my room, even before I'd put my hand on the door, I knew that he'd slipped into my room, into my bed.  I savored the feeling of anticipation.  The excitement where I felt my heart beating in my chest.  

In the dark, I saw his sleek form as he used to be: lithe, thin, exuberant (if often from drinking).  I could always feel his desire for me sweeping me up in our youthful lust.  Funny how I always dream them as they were.  As they always will be apparently, in my frozen-in-time memories.

I slip into bed beside him, murmuring, "I knew you'd be here".

I assume we sleep together, because afterwards, I relive the same story as reality was so many years ago.  Me telling him that we should stop wasting time and move this "casual affair" into something more.  He begs off (like they all did), shaking his head and making plans to bolt.  Not exactly the same words, obviously, but the same roles, the same positions.

I wake up at this point -- the scene was so familiar.  I'd lived this one over and over, and it's only the past 5 or so years that I've deliberately removed myself from this loop.  Yet... I somehow found myself missing the intensity of those exchanges.  I wonder if I'd willingly traded off security for that intensity, kind of my own Devil's bargain.  And I wonder further if those days of passion are over forever.  Lately, it seems there are just built-in roadblocks to anyone I am attracted to punctuating a general desert of (non)options.

Dead-ends.  Missed opportunities.  Has-beens.


pairika: (Default)

November 2008

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