I was reliving past emotional highs, a reel of sweet times with great loves, requited and otherwise. Scene after scene passed by as I saw the beautiful faces of the women who have taken places in my life. The last one to appear, the most regretted lost love, laid with me on a bed as she used to in my dreams. She kissed me gently on my lips and nuzzled onto me, entwining our bodies in tender languor. As she kissed me a second time, I recalled in my dream that this scene never actually happened in real life, and cursed this false vision. I awoke in my dream in a fascimile of my bed, with the now faded vision of my lost love, floating above me while resting her ethereal body on top of mine. “I wanted to help you remember, so you dont lose connection” she said, with a longing desperate tone. “You can still remember.”
Reluctantly, I responded “I know, I know.”
She laid her head down on my chest again, and we passed time together as my body relaxed in lazy comfort. I began to get sad about the ghost I was with as the quiet left me with my thoughts, knowing it was truly a spectre of a memory that never existed.
She raised her head to kiss me again, and I hesitated. “Do you not want to relive this? To remember?”