Dreams

I climb under the covers, the sheets clean and fresh beckon to me. I have opened the window so that I can smell the heady perfume of the night jasmine which I planted below my window. The fragrance mixes with the smells of lavender and vanilla, which perfume my room. I lower my head to the pillow and pray that I don’t dream of him. I long for a night not filled with thoughts of him. The desire that I have to see him, talk to him, to touch him is at times unbearable, and it has taken over my nights. I hate the white hot feeling of betrayal that pierces my chest. I don’t want to wake flushed with the shame of wanting someone so much you can’t breathe, all the while knowing that they do not feel the same. My dreams are filled with moments of great passion and then I dream of despair, feelings of being not good enough, unacceptable, unworthy and unloved flow into my dreams. I can’t leave them for a moment.