My Lover In The Dream-sphere

This is more of a letter to someone than a story really, but it's to a real person who I am 99.9% sure will never read it. In that slight.1% chance that the person I am writing to ever happens to stumble upon it, I'm still not 100% sure they would be able to recognize that it was to them. Unrequited love is one of life's great cruelties, but in it there are lessons if we choose to learn them. Without further ado, here it is.

To My Lover In The Dream-sphere

I arrive again to you, knowing it's only a dream. I can't stop myself from coming here, walking up the stairs to meet you on your couch. You turn your head and see me approach with a smile. Your hand extends, welcoming me with the same hand that will soon be running through my hair. I take your hand and my feet slip a little bit because your wood floor is slippery against my socks. I fall as I round the corner of the couch and catch myself just before our faces smash into each other.

We smile again and giggle quietly nose to nose, letting our air mix. Before you, I hated the feeling of breathing used air.

But with you...

Something is different. I hunger for every taste, every smell, every touch that you would give. The taste of your lips and that chapstick you wear, the smell of your clothes fresh out of the laundry mixed with your skin and the perfectly gentle and firm grip you have on me.

I cannot resist closing the distant between us. Our lips finally touch and for a moment, nothing but our two fragile bodies exist in my mind. The precious breakable bodies we give to each other for love and for pleasure.

I yield as you pull me closer, my lips parting and allowing you to conquer my mouth with your own. I am soft, and I am fire. In the darkness behind my eyelids, I see your existence as a flame caressing my soul through my body. Having a body dictates I must remain aware of my physical condition and balance instead of getting lost in sensations you bestow upon me. I sink my knees into the couch on either side of your lap. Our heartbeats join together by the embraces of our arms. Your chest against mine, your heart accepting my scars and mine accepting your age.

It's a non-issue. The limitations of our bodies do not hinder our passions from consuming us as we devour eachother. Our hands are explorers and our mouths two armies fighting for dominance. Your hips move in time to the war drum. Mine respond to that call.

It's a bloodless battle between patience and passion. In every moment time stands still, yet still flies and will be over too soon.

As I grind against you we cannot stop our voices from singing the age old song of lust. Sometimes it's a whisper, sometimes it's a groan, sometimes it's a hissing breath. It's always a shiver down my spine no matter what sounds you make. You don't even have to speak, for I can hear your lascivious desires by the way you are breathing so heavily against my ear. How could it be that I am not repulsed by the sound of the wind rushing out of your throat? How is it that a sound I normally hate has this effect on me?

You alone are my sole desire in the sphere of sexual intimacy. I shun even the easiest of opportunities of pleasure for the hope that someday I might be graced with even one chance to worship your body with my mine. I don't care if age or health or hypertension causes your virility to fade. I wouldn't even care if you just wanted a mouth to use and never reciprocated. I would give almost anything to be the one to provide you with release. No matter how soft, I will draw up ecstasy from the depths of your soul and your body. I will be the one to drill a well in the desert and find water.

I want nothing more than to be a giver, a master of service, an angel of pleasure sent purely for the purpose of granting your every wish. From the darkest desires to the softest vanilla, I would submit myself to see them fulfilled.

So it is here in my dream-sphere I meet you.

And I continue to love your body with mine, as our layers are peeled back, not just clothes but egos too, we are truly naked before each other finally. I am in awe of the body before me, that you would allow me to gaze upon it and soak in every detail, every flaw, yes, every cell. Before I put my lips to your skin once more you place your hand on my cheek, and the warmth spreads into my bones. I close my eyes once more and lean my head into your hand as it travels up into my hair. You know it drives me wild when you play with my hair like that, so I can only return the favor. I slide down off the couch but remain on my knees in front of you. Your hand knows exactly where my head is going and guides me there. I open my mouth, and into it I take all of your willing energy. War drum, beating again. My assault on your body elicits a response, the thrusting of a spear into my heart, but the path is indirect. My throat is defenseless against your counterstrike. I have no choice but to surrender, my gates opening wide and the guard leaving his post. Over and over, I am wounded in the sweetest way. I take every advance as a gift. A war was never so sweet, a slaughter never so intimate, as the way you have taken over my lands and deposed my rulers. I am no longer separate from you. We are one.

I look up at you and your eyes remind me of the mountains. How is it that your eyes hold every color I love the most? Dark blue edges like mighty pacific coasts, new green leaves in the middle and flecks of mud as if it were scattered up from the ground by rain.

Truly, I have never seen eyes like yours. Truly, I have never wanted them to close more than I do now, as if to quietly affirm my skill in pleasing you.

I dare not go further and attempt to take any pleasure for myself, even in this dream-sphere, apart from that which I get from you finally permitting me to express my gratitude to you for existing and awakening a passion I never knew I was capable of.

I know I cannot have you.

I know I should stop dreaming of you.

I know I will stop, one day, but I will never forget the gift you have given me of showing me what these feelings are like.

I know what to look for now when the time comes for me to become half of a whole.

In my vain imaginings of you, I found my release. In the fight to understand why, I found my heart softening its grip when I realized the why does not matter so much as the what, how, when, and who.

I hope I will fall in love again.

I also hope you will be there to see it happen as a friend.

Thank you.