I had a dream the other night. I don't remember my dreams very often, but when I do, they tend to stick in my head for an exceedingly long time. I can recall a couple vivid dreams from childhood even now.
This dream has been the most vivid one I've had since a series of semi-nightmares had started and stopped after moving into my new apartment. Dreams like this always make me regret not keeping a dream journal.
I was looking at you, and you smiled and spoke, mouth bright in the darkness. I don't remember what you said, but then, words have never been important in my dreams. You spoke, and I felt happy, glowing with praise and love.
We embraced each other, and the weather changed. We were under a starlit sky, like the ones I remember from camping in California, some of the only experiences I've ever felt were truly religious in my entire life. Stars were strewn across the blue, like God had knocked over an errant can of glitter.
The weather changed, but not quickly: now it was sunshiny bright, and I could see trees all around. We were in arms together, flushed smooth skin sliding under and around. I felt you grow warmer, until the light on my back was almost cool in comparison.
Clouds drew over us, iron-dark and heavy. Rain began to drip down around us, but I did not feel cold. The grass grew around us, in the most vibrant green I've ever seen. We were together as it grew higher and bowed over us. The warmth between us grew into heat, and I felt no fear, or urgency, or despair. I was happy, beatific, for what felt like the first time in far too long.
I awoke, already fallen into love.
I awoke, and cursed awakening.
I recognized her face in this dream. I might tell her about it someday.