Lucid

I was talking about dreams with someone the other night. Lucid dreaming. You can do whatever you want. I said that sometimes, I realise I'm dreaming and the first thing I do is fly.

You were in my dream last night. You looked well. Younger. Your hair was darker. So were your eyes, for some reason. You were dressed oddly formally.

It went as you might expect. My hair fell into my eyes and you brushed it away and leaned in to kiss me. It felt so real. I don't think you'd ever taken the initiative like that in real life. I'd always done the leaning.

I allowed it to happen. I could feel your mouth, your tongue. The heat. I wanted you.

(Even for such an idealised version of you, even in my dream, I could still smell the day-old booze)

Right away my mind was sparking. I pulled away.

"But you're in another relationship"

"It's ok, they know about you. 'drop in to visit!' they said".

You leaned back in, eagerly.

My mind nudged me again. "What if my friends saw this? All the support they've given me to get past this and here I am again."

We stayed, chatting. You were all smiles, all lightness. Remember that version of you?

"If I'm being pursued again, that means the other person is despised. That's how it goes. It means it's hell for them at home. We'll both be in hell".

In dreams I can be anything. Do anything. I can even fly. But I can't accept being with you again. I can never go back. Even inside the privacy of my own mind.

What does that tell you.