I'll See You In My Dreams

You are still a whisper on my lips

A feeling at my fingertips

That's pulling at my skin

You leave me when I'm at my worst

Feeling as if I've been cursed

Bitter cold within

Days go by and still I think of you

Days when I couldn't live my life without you
Without you

-- Dirty Vegas, Days Go By

* * * * * * *

My subconscious mind assaulted me early this morning with yet another dream of her…

...Of her, and our lost love, which was never really lost but willfully cast aside, as an impediment. Removed, like a thick jacket donned before leaving her house on an unexpectedly warm autumn day. Displaced and forgotten until the next chill blows over her, makes goose-flesh of her chest and neck and arms, and brings it to her remembrance again.

Another dream of lovely green eyes, bloodshot from acrid release of too many tears in the dark choking hours of the night, when denied thoughts push their way past the barriers of daylight and silently ravage her. Eyes swollen from rejection and distance and sleeplessness, yet bravely hopeful as they gaze upward into the skies of my own blue orbs.

Searching, she wonders whether she will find love in them. Whether the captivating intimacy between us still survives. Whether my countenance will beam like morning light through the edges of the drawn curtains in the bedroom of her soul.

She craves affection and approval from these broken eyes of mine. But even in this state of surreality, I conceal them from her, and turn away. Torn.

I want to lift her up in my arms and carry her off to some fantastic veiled dream-realm, detached from our waking certainties. Up onto a snowy mountain’s peak, high above the clouds, into a soaring, mysterious milieu, with a little log cabin nestled amongst green aspen trees.

A place where we could be together. Where the heat of our fervor could melt our aroused hearts into warm viscous fluid love for a second time.

A place where words are altogether redundant. Where the light of our eyes could illuminate our shared one soul. Forever luminescent.

A place where I could be inside her again, driving myself with abandon into her most precious and consecrated place…

…her heart.

But now I deny these sentiments. Now, I am a blood-spattered sadist behind a handsome, intelligent veneer. Now, even in my dreams, in fear and violence and loss of control I shove her away from me with a panicked, predictable “Fuck you.”

The hope in her eyes turns to despair. The dam bursts. The waters rush out, flooding my soul with overwhelming liquid death. I am an ancient walled city, besieged on all sides, in a perpetual state of enforced loneliness and willful ignorance. I curse myself for my callousness...

...and I awake from my dream, my body weighed down with wonderful, sad memories of love never to leave, never to return.

I sigh deeply and rub my eyes, attempting to erase the images from my mind. Wearily, I get out of bed and begin a new day.

A day of new resistance, new denial, new conflict, as I try not to lose another battle.

To myself.

~ Witt