She was there. She was right there, and I let her go.
She is something of a dream. Strong. Beautiful. Perfect for me in every way. Yet when it came time to let her in, I let her go. I shrank from all I knew of her into a cocoon of helpless thoughts, and I ran from an embrace that felt so much like home.
I’ve wondered why. In the time since then I’ve had ample opportunity to quell my thoughts and explore my apprehension. I’ve had time to wander around my stupidity and remove the dead parts that clogged my stream of truth. I look at myself from then and cannot believe what I had done.
What is left? An opportunity to learn. I can watch from a distance as others dine at our table. I can understand what quakes inside of me when I hope for just one more chance. Now, I know what I lost and know that I will not soon make that mistake again.
Dreams sometimes can turn into nightmares. My hope is that nightmares can also turn into dreams.
I won’t pressure her. I can’t. Instead I can hold her in my heart and hope for the best for her. Sometime in our moments I grew to love her and in that moment all I wanted was what made her smile.
My hope is that she finds love, ecstasy, and a companionship she deserves. If she doesn’t, I’ll be here understanding that while I am a fool, I’m not the type of fool who fucks up twice.
In that way, perhaps I can be something of a dream to her, too.