.it was just a dream.

It's 3:30 in the morning.  I just woke up from one of those dreams.  The kind that is so real and vivid that you never want to wake up from it.

Tonight I went to bed in one of his shirts.  It's almost like having his arms wrapped around me.  It's almost like his skin is touching mine.  But it's not.  It's just a shirt.

I moved my pillows to the middle of our king size bed.  I thought then when he came to bed and saw me there, asleep, in his shirt, close to his spot.......   Midnight came; 1:00 then 2:00.  I don't remember falling asleep but I remember the dream.

We were in a new church; sitting next to each other.  We had been in the flux that we're in now.  But his hand accidentally rubbed against mine.  It was like electricity.  My heart started pounding; I couldn't catch my breath.  I looked up and his eyes met mine and I knew in that instant he was feeling the exact same thing.  We didn't care if people stared.  We made a hasty retreat.  On the walk to the car his hand guided the small of my back.  I thought I was going to pass out just from that touch.  When we got to the car he came around to my side and opened  the door.  For what seemed like an eternity we stood there just staring into each others eyes.  Not a word was said; no contact was made.  But the look spoke everything we couldn't.

Quickly I got in and he raced to the other side.  As he began to drive home I slid over as far as I could.  I slowly began kissing his neck.  Tasting him.  That deliciousness that is only him; that deliciousness that I had been denied for so long.  I slowly began undoing the buttons on his dress shirt.  Allowing my fingers the luxury of rubbing his chest; his neck; his nape.  I undid his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves.  His arms have always turned me on; they had always made me feel safe.

He kept pushing me away.  I knew it wasn't because he didn't want me; it was because he wanted me too much.  He couldn't stand to have me so close and not be able to touch me as well.  He was in agony.  Rather than allow himself the pleasure I could give him while he was driving, he wanted to wait until we were home; in our bed.  Where we could be together as one.

Finally arriving home, without losing body contact, and somehow without tripping over everything in our path, we made our way to the bed.  To our bed.  Clothing was quickly removed and all the emotions of the past months met, there in the middle of that king size bed.  

I slowly felt reality sweeping over my body.  I lay there with my eyes closed, a smile on my face thinking of what had happened between him and I.  Remembering how good it felt.  I reached over to touch him; to hold him.  

And I found an empty space.  A cold pillow.  He had never even come to bed to sleep with me.  Instead, once again, choosing the couch.

Now I sit here more cold and lonely than I've been in months.