The sun, streaming in from the cracks in the blinds, warms my body enough to uncover my arms from my quilt. I don't want to get out of bed. I don't want to get dressed. I don't want to feel the dusty, cold hardwood floors beneath my feet. I want to stay warm. I want to keep my eyes closed. I want to stay emerged in the world behind my eyelids. I was dreaming about him. Fragments of reality, memories of the past and desires for my...OUR...future.
There was a time when I would have traded ten minutes in his arms for a decade in anyone else's embrace. I have. I have passed on relationships, even when he didn't. I've held on to the "someday" and the "one day" and the "maybe" for too long. Our real...is more fantasy than reality. I will never move. He will never move. He will never be only "mine".
I want to sleep away the pain.
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