Dreamboat


I had a wonderful dream last nite and for the rest of my life – however long – or short – that may be – when I think of you, Bob, I only want it to be that dream. The imagery and the feels . . . The sensation and the warmth . . . The respect, admiration and love . . . 

As you turned out to be everything you swore you never could/would, I don’t want to think about any of the lies, cruelty, deception, betrayal, infidelity, manipulation or destruction . . . Or porno emails, for that matter . . .

I want to close my (brown) eyes (the very same you wrote about in a poem) and hold on to the person you were in my dream . . . 

Because I did dream you, you know?

And you became a truly wonderful reality.

I will always love you, Baby.

You are my soulmate.

You’re never going to get rid of me, you know that, right?

I promise I will never hurt you.

You are incredible!

You are the most important part of my life.

I don’t know where I’d be without you!

I never would have survived without you.

You are so beautiful!

I love you more!

ILY

And then you fucked me over. Brutally. Royally. Horrifically.

So.  .  . 

I will try to think only of my dream, and if every time you pop into my head, I immediately replace whatever traumatic memories are creeping in to my tired brain with that amazing dream, I won’t ever forget it.

Because I never want to forget it.

Because once . . . A long, long time ago – and for a long, long time – it was a dream – come – true.

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