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Oh, that Dream

I had that dream again last night, and oh, my soul mourns this morning that the dream could not last.  He was there, again.  He loved me, again.  That haunting feeling lurks, just inside the veil of morning creeping over the horizon.

We were young attorneys - he from the good family, me from the trailer park.  It's a classic Southern Gothic theme, and one I have not experienced in my dreams before.  Normally, I exist on an equal social field.  Curious! Maybe there is something in this new theme.  As he stood his ground with his father and with his fellow attorneys from similar social backgrounds, my heart soared; I felt truly loved and wanted.

I have never experienced that feeling in my real life - wanted and loved.

I have always made compromises to believe in something wonderful; compromises that eventually weakened and revealed the fragility in the relationship.  As I woke this morning, the feeling of desire, of love and acceptance lingered, and my ability to put thoughts and feelings into words returned.  I can't help but wonder how my writing would benefit from finding love.

Occasionally when I make the half hour drive east to visit my parents, I catch a whisper of longing rustling in the prairie grass. If I can shut out all other sounds and / or distractions, I can hold onto that whisper long enough for an image to visualize.  For that wonderful half hour, I felt true joy, and I won't lie, I longed desperately for more.
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