Crying Over a Dream

I had a long, extended dream about being in the company of a mad, exciting, mixed up woman who was smart and funny and bewitching.

She was having a house party with over a dozen people who were all demanding dinner that she hadn’t cooked yet. I never met her before and I was falling badly. She looked at me with eyes and a laughing smile that said come closer and yet keep away. Playful and teasing and knowing.

I said I’d take everyone out for pizza so that I could feed them and get rid of them. They wouldn’t be coming back to the house. Her face sparkled in agreement, her head of short brunette hair rocking back and forth to music I couldn’t hear. And then I woke up.

When I woke up I instantly knew she was a dream and I cried and cried. I am still in her world. I’m writing this 12 hours later and still crying about loosing a woman I never met, who never existed, and who will never be.

“All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.” Andre Breton

By thomasfarley01

Business writer and graphic arts gadfly.

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