Just a dream



Thinking about making love to anyone but her is terrifying. She's the only thing that makes sense; she's the only one I want. 

Thinking about having sex with her is like running out of air in five seconds and clawing for the surface of the water so I can breathe again. Everything goes black; everything short circuits. Just imagining being in the same room with her makes my whole body burn. Imagining being with her with her clothes off makes my head spin. Imaging sex with her ... isn't possible. I'll tear down the mountains and burn down the skies. I'll set fire to every household between us. I'll shake the stars from the dark night, take the sun and set it free from its path. There is such intensity running through me, I break, I sputter, I curse and I mutter. But there is nothing to be done. I am simply spinning my wheels, wishing for something that I cannot have.

I'm beginning to wonder if I've simply lost my grip on reality. I'm in love with a woman I don't even talk to, a woman I have no relationship with. I'm happy that I love her, but I'm unhappy that I cannot show her I love her. And thinking about sex ... well, it's just a dream. I don't think about sex. I can't. I'm just a man, after all. If I go on thinking about something which I cannot do anything about, I may as well burn down the world. I'll launch myself right out of my skin. I can't see heaven from here. So, too, I cannot imagine making love to her.

I'm getting used to the feeling of not getting what I want. I'm starting to wear it well. Eventually, I won't even try. Is it better to burn or turn it off? If I could turn it off, I would. If I could turn off my head or my heart or my body, I would. So, I burn.

If there's a purpose in all of this, I've yet to find it. If there's rhyme or reason, I'm without it. I wander through the darkest, coldest desert to an unknown future and an unknown land. My soul seeks shelter. My heart seeks a home. My mind cries out for reason. And my feet are so damn tired.

I know someday none of this will matter; it will just be a forgotten struggle. If this is merely a struggle, then I have to admit that I've already given up. If I could walk away from my body, I would. If I could silence my mind, I would. If I could comfort my heart, I would. What I seek is not found here; I travel to another country. And I hope to be there soon. It would make me very happy if she will be there too.

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