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Just in dreams

I've never fallen in love. Well, except in dreams. 

It's happened twice. Perhaps that's odd. I'm not sure as I've never spoken of these loves to anyone before. Do others have dream loves? Or do they simply deepen or explore the loves they already have? I would be curious to know.

The first time I fell in love, the face was familiar, but from years past. We wandered though a grand mansion--perhaps it had even been turned into a museum--holding hands and talking in ways I'd always hoped we would. The walls were scarlet and the trim was white with gold details. I cannot recall what we wore, but it was signature to us and felt perfectly in place though I do not believe it matched the decor. As we walked, I began to realize it wasn't real, that we were inside a fantasy world, and told him so. He told me to just hold on then, and let the dream do what it would. I held fast and we shared a gentle kiss. It was bliss I'd never known and have only known once since. When I awoke softly, I was wretchedly heartbroken for I had lost my first and only love.

I haven't exchanged words with this man in over five years, but he somehow lingers in my mind. I like to believe that I only hold a fondness for the friendship we shared, but there is always a possibility that this dream signaled there was more to it.

The second time came much more recently. Just the other night, in fact. The man was once again familiar, but he was at least still in my life. Well, somewhat. In the dream it was our last day of college and we were packing our backpacks. At this version of our education, we had green lockers like I used to have in elementary school. The institution wasn't like one I've ever been to in the waking world, but it had sweeping ceilings and was made of imposing and impressive white marble. We never kissed, but he did caress me. I told him that we shouldn't, that he belonged to someone else. He smiled and informed me that he was mine now. I gently felt him and delighted in the touch. We walked out of the building, through bulging pillars, hands in each other's pockets and smiles on our faces.

And then, it ended. My alarm rang and I awoke in distress. Hadn't I left this man behind? He was never mine to begin with and yet my sleeping brain still desired him, perhaps my waking brain did too, at least in some dusty and gossamer-covered corners.

I suppose I am not known for knowing all of my mind and heart. My dreams may be trying to send me a message or they may simply be trying to give me something I have never had. Isn't that what dreams are for?

I hope the third time I fall in love, I am awake.

(Prompt by me)

"Purple Sky" by Carlos Felix
 

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