The dream I had last night was the sort of thing that you wish you could go back to. It has a certain sadness to it, yes, that longing to most literally live in your dream world. It wasn't lucid, either. My subconscious had an excillent capability to give me exactly what I wanted, as well as let me remember it, both of which are rarities.
Not to stray too far from what this dream log is truly all about, the details of the dream, let me preface with the fact that certain things just don't happen in my dreams. One, I am never myself, at least when I remember my dreams. I'm always someone similar to me, someone I know, or heck, even a video game character. Two, I am never in my own home. My dreams happen in schools or in "crazy adventure land", that place where anything can and will happen, and every action movie, fantasy movie, sci-fi movie, and romance film all happen at the same time.
On with the actual stuff of the dream, however. Unfortunately, I don't remember how it started. I, yes, 'I', was lying in my bathtub, with someone. We were both nude. This someone is a person I dated for a while. We left on good terms, but we hadn't talked since February. However, upon randomly messaging me three days ago, she ended our conversation with a peck on the cheek, which was always our kinda thing. This is what one would typically call a mixed signal. Her name is Sai, which is okay for me to use since it isn't her real name, but she hates her real name, preferring to use her internet name. I think a lot of us understand that.
Back to the dream. We were idly snuggling, it seemed. I was beneath her, just lightly running my hands over her skin. It was very warm, in that body heat sort of way where the only forcast you cared about was 80° with a 95% chance of soft. We were both very quiet, holding each other. I fell asleep for some time, and when I awoke, she was gone. But I knew she was still in the house, in that dream-thought line where you subconsciously know a lot more about what's going on than you tell yourself. She wasn't in my room, for some reason my sister was sleeping there. She was in my parents bedroom, lying beneath the sheets, clothed now. I was clothed too, suddenly. I crawled beneath the sheets with her, we wrapped our arms around each other, and she told me about a culture trip she went on having to do with the Spanish Revolution.
Then I awoke, wanting to return. I just wanted her to hold me again. The only strange symbol in the dream that I didn't recognize was the fact that none of the beds had undersheets, none at all. Strange. I need to talk to her again. I miss her.