It's just a fantasy...its not the real thing...

I wrote this post a few weeks ago. Its a recurring dream I have. When I wrote it, I had just awoken and it was all fresh in my head. I have been having this same dream for years now. I didn't post it then because...eh, I don't know why exactly, just that it didn't feel right. I probably only have this dream 2-3 times in a whole year. I decided to post this today because I had it again this morning. That's twice in just a few weeks. I don't know that any of that has any significance, but I do know this dream is exactly the same, down to the last detail, every time I have it. Do any of you have any recurring dreams? What do you think they mean?

I dreamed about you again last night. Well, maybe it wasn't a dream. You know that period of time between waking and sleeping? Where your body still hasn't moved and your mind is still in that place where you're not consciously controlling your thoughts? That's where I see you. Where I feel you. Where I know you have to exist somewhere because if you didn't, then why would I be feeling you there so vividly? Does that count as a dream?

So today you visited me, again. It was the same as always. I open my eyes in the morning. There is a soft glow coming from my bedside table light. You are still asleep, laying facing me, on your side. Your lips are slightly parted. Your breaths deep, even. Your right hand is tucked beneath your pillow, palm up. The covers are pulled up over your shoulder and tucked loosely between your chin and collar bone. I look at your face and can see the little lines around your eyes. Proof of years of laughter and smiles. The thin, fine lines on your forehead remind me your life has been one with little worry-they're not as deep and pronounced as the ones I bear. Your hair has turned mostly silvery white, the dark strands now sporadically pepper your scalp. I think to myself how incredibly handsome you are. I have the sudden, uncontrollable urge to reach out and touch your face, so I do. My thumb brushes against your lips and you stir and slowly open your eyes, blinking the sleep away. You look at me and smile.

I feel my body begin to come out of its slumber and I close my eyes tightly in hopes of keeping you there. I can almost feel you fade and when I open my eyes the place where I just saw you sleeping is empty. Cold. I remember you aren't real. Just someone I have spent years dreaming about. I know the features I see are vague. Generic. The you I see isn't the you that will one day be. As I roll over and look at the ceiling I ask that God send you to me when I am ready to recognize you as you. So I don't pass you by because I am too caught up in my own life. So that I don't miss my chance to finally have my dream become my reality.

Originally written October 2011