I had a dream last night.
I dreamt of him lying beside me. I could smell his essence and could hear his breath. He was so close that our bodies were almost touching. I went rigid with the sensation of his skin touching mine.
I lay there still, holding my breath in fear that if I woke up, everything would evaporate.
He looked at me intently, his eyes transfixed on my face. I drew in a gasp of air and tried to calm myself down, but the atmosphere smelled of lust and desire. The air inside me was now pushing harder on the walls of my chest until it became unbearable to hold anymore. I let go of all the air with a heavy sigh.
It was then I noticed that he had already twisted his mouth and furrowed his eyebrows. He moved slightly initially and then with a jerk he wasn’t on the bed anymore. He was preparing to leave.
My sub-conscious mind panicked. I tried to pull the bedsheets and grab him by the arm, but by then he was far away. I threw my hands and legs in the air, desperate to catch his attention but further and further he went, until I could only see his silhouette blocking the path of light. I opened my mouth to scream but could only feel my vocal cords burning – the harder I tried, the more it burnt, until it reached a point I couldn’t take it anymore.
I woke up in the middle of the night, breathless, covered in sweat. It is one of those nights I would remember perfectly. I remember the grey eyes, the brown hair and the small nose. I caressed my hands on the other side of the bed and tried to smell his T-shirt which I still wore as an souvenir. There was that slight rosy smell which I was so acquainted with. The more I breath in, more images of him flash by. The smiling ones, the one when he kissed me and lastly the angry little face he made that night before leaving. The memories are slowly fading away with time. Yet every time it hits the shore of consciousness, it brings in the melancholy grains of sand which stay there, glistering in the sunlight of happiness.