I can't tell you my dreams...
It wasn't you in there.
And even if I don't understand them,
I hold them in my heart.


Short Disclaimer: somehow, this can be seen as an uber-ff of x:wp... if you see it like this, be sure, I never had the intention to infringe on the MCA-copyright... and be warned of the maintext (which is rather un-graphic!)... hope it's not illegal in your state, but if, please surf on...


by loona - june 2000 (revised july 2000)

It was an awful awakening. Those damned dreams always seemed to be so realistic. I could even feel her tender fingertips still on my face... The daylight gave me a strange feeling of pain, as if I had had more than just a few beers too many, last evening... But I didn't! Be sure... Since this "wonderwoman" had stepped right into my life and touched my heart, soul and most parts of my body, I never had one too many...But I had before... Sure... Fuzzy look on her face... the dark, long hair gave me a somehow circumfluent impression since the first time I saw her. And so it did now. Usually it was a great feeling to wake up beneath her, seeing the first smile on her gentle lips, to be caressed by the glance of her open eyes... but today... everything was different. Awful... I have mentioned it before...haven't I? In my dream... has it has been a dream after all...??? My heart was pounding again... a breathless moment, as it had been moments before. I can still feel the touch of this well-known hand on my shoulder. As I turn around in this crowd of familiar people from my past, and look finally, at last... into these sparkling green eyes, which once again seem to give me the same strength as they did years before. The strength to be myself. No matter what my past looks like. No matter, what my future will be... I feel at home. The burden of the long time between losing, but finally rediscovering eachother somehow disappears. I don't have to explain why I have never sent a postcard or a letter, or made a short call... I look in her eyes and we are one.

Strange thing, uh? I mean... I have been living in a relationship that everybody, including myself, thinks is somehow perfect. We really match - full stop... obviously - exclamation mark... And now, lying next to her, I hear my blood rushing through my veins. Listening to this powerful heartbeat inside of me and my thoughts, my feelings, my whole damned existence is filled up with this phantom of lost friendship... The first friendship I ever had. The best? I do not agree with superlatives. I never accept any borderline... But now, lying next to... my pal? my lover? my... wife? gee... I reject this application of heterosexual behaviours and labels to a way of life which cannot be defined by using common words. For ages society has preferably chosen to deny us a name of our own, to deny us to be a self-defined part of spoken language. Instead it always seems to me as if this application of ours to heterosexual terms has also been an attempt to convert us into an accepted part of society and even more, to make us seem more "normal"... which I am not... even more than definitely not at this very moment. (see? Even heightened superlative...)

And right now I am feeling chilly... I miss the warm, covering embrace she had given me just an instant before... at the train station, where the friends from my past had been waiting for me. And as I stepped out of the carriage, my first glimpse belonged to those green eyes, which I had been missing every day since the last time they had met mine... But I did not see her. The crowd of laughing, chattering, happy people surrounded me and I answered them, smiling... Then, right into this noisy moment, I felt her touch on my shoulder. And everything muted. Maybe everyone around us fell silent, but I am not sure. I turned... wow.... I really had missed this... I felt reborn. We were reborn. And in slow-motion (I am only talking about our moves, not our feelings rushing over us) we fell into this embrace I can still feel now... here... lying in the huge bed of presence. A void presence, because with certainty those eyes beneath me won't be green when being opened. And her hair is dark and not blonde... and most of all, no-one in my life means to me what she has meant.... She, who might hold me for some hours more and then leave again. And in a few days none of these emotions from this damned realistic dream will be left. Still, I will remember the crowd, the fact that it was those strength-giving eyes that I saw when I was turning around... but everything else will be lost... Again. And so, it's better not to tell her... my lover, partner... my present source of life... about the dream of this night...an inexpressible vision which makes me feel incomplete at this moment. Awful awakening... I did mention it before, didn't I?

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