Dreaming

I have vivid dreams.

I woke up this morning wanting nothing more than to reach out to him and tell him about them. Say “fuck it” to my pride and good sense that keeps telling me he doesn’t want me in his life anymore. I didn’t. I need to respect his space.

While he was in my life we’d share our crazy dreams – he was the first person I contacted in the morning. I’d still be half asleep when I would reach for my phone. It is so hard to stop that now. Sometimes I just grab it and let the feelings wash over me. Sometimes.

I have these little day dreams that he will message me, “I miss you.” When I look at my phone, and there isn’t a notification, it’s always disappointing.

Last night I dreamt of him.

We were driving in an old car, with a bench seat. I was sitting next to him, and our legs were touching – I could feel the heat of him. He was in his grey-cat sleep shirt and jeans, his doc martin on the gas. His hair wasn’t as straight as he would normally like it and had a little curl. It glowed a little in the setting sun. I wanted to touch it. He had this leather cuff type bracelet on, which I can’t even remember him wearing something like that in any of the pictures he shared, but there it was.

He put the visor down because of the sun, and passed me his sunglasses to wear, since I am too short to have the visor make a bit of difference. He kept his eyes on the road the whole time.

Star Witness by Niko Case was playing on the old radio that glowed in the darkening car.

“I keep wanting to talk to you, but I don’t know what to say.” he says to me, and makes a bit of a face, glancing over at me “Do you really have to look at me like that?”

“I can’t help it. You’re here.” I almost whispered, even in my dream I feel the fragileness of the moment, and I want to remember everything. That’s when I notice I can smell his clean, boy smell. And I put my hand on his thigh.

“I just can’t, I’m sorry.” Dream Sweet boy says to me, and he really does look sad; pained.

“It’s okay.” I say and I pull my hand back to my lap. Feeling the sting of rejection and tears but putting on a brave face, and when I can trust myself to talk say, “I just want this time with you.”

He has a sad half smile on his face. I wish I knew what he was thinking. He takes one hand off the wheel and holds mine. It took me by surprise and I feel the butterflies. I remember thinking about how good it felt, how my hand fit into his.

I didn’t want to move or say anything, just wanted the moment to keep going, Dream Me trying to remember every detail.

And then I woke up. I miss him.