And what of dreaming
While he could reach her, put a smile on her face that lasted for days, torment her mercilessly from miles away, she still was just yearning for something she could never have. For all his eccentric qualities she found most appealing, idiosyncrasies unintentionally endearing, he couldn’t touch her – couldn’t wrap himself around her and make her feel the way she needed a man to make her feel.
She knew she’d never know the taste of his kiss; never feel the weight of his body pressing down on hers, as she rose up to meet him. Never feel his breath hot on her neck, collapse from exhaustion and awake in his bed. Turn and gaze into his sleepy eyes, know if he spoke of truth or lies.
For inasmuch as she wanted to stop thinking, accept the fact that some things are unknowing, believe in the connection they had forged, enjoy the moments for what they were; longed to give freely, expecting nothing in return, deep down she knew she’d always want more – more than he was willing or able to give.
She tried to ignore those things she was feeling, fearing his pleasure and pain – yet she sat at the widow thinking of him, listening and watching the rain. Saddened that she’d never come know him intimately, longing to touch him, knowing she couldn’t; illusive and unattainable, always out of reach, deeply afraid of him fading away – as all dreams do with time.
Okay … am I reading this right? Our narrator had an attraction to the fella but because she presupposed that he would never be able to meet her emotional needs (and she is presupposing here from what little the narrator has given us to go on)she never let the relationship progress beyond the platonic.
Right?
Okay.
So now. What? He’s become an unattainable dream? Or the narrator’s concept of what they might have had together has changed?
Where did I leave my critical thinking cap?
Very beautifully written as always..
How can one touch a dream? Love that last paragraph.
There is no right or wrong way to read it, Roger. It means whatever you want it to mean, when you wrap your mind around and embrace the words.
Thank you, Eric. I love the last paragraph too.
Jill,
What I really like about your writing is the poetic style. Your stories often have a dreamy quality, that I can interpret in my own way. My favorites, like this one, touch on the realities of our shaky human relationships. I can relate to the feeling of deep sadness in a relationship with a lot of potential, but without that final connection.
I’m still thinking about your last post, claiming your old stuff sucks. If it’s anything like your current writing, it SO doesn’t! I look forward to reading more of it. Thanks for sharing your heart and soul. I’m sure I’m not the only one who appreciates it.
Ferd.
i just came across your blog, it’s great writing. want to visit mine? it’s edzcelperk.wordpress.com : )