Bittersweet Nightmare

Bittersweet Nightmare

It was then that she heard him. Calling her name


She couldn’t make it out


She turned to her right. She had heard it that time

Her heart beat quickened as she slowly made her way down the dark hall

She knew who it was, but she didn’t believe

She groped along the walls, trying not to knock down the pictures.

Pictures of the life they had shared

Pictures they had hung together

Memories of time shared, of love, of joy, and of heartache.

Memories that came flooding back to her as she stared wide-eyed down the hall

She couldn’t see anything. It was pitch black.

She couldn’t hear it anymore. She strained her ears.


She shook her head and laughed at herself

How foolish she was, getting worked up over nothing.

She knew it couldn’t have been him.

A smile crept to her lips.

But oh how she enjoyed remembering him.


She jumped. Her heart raced again, she started to sweat. It was cold.

“Susan…..I’m here.”

No, she told herself. It can’t be him. I don’t believe it.

“Believe it,” it whispered. That unmistakable voice. It had been him.

The soft sound of his voice danced along her face, playing with her, echoing in her ears.

How could it be him? I’m…I’m imagining this. It’s just a dream.

From behind, she felt his hand on her shoulder, “It’s no dream, Susan.”

She froze. She could feel the warmth of his hand, the air was cold. She shook.

“Aren’t you going to turn around and see me?” he asked sweetly.

Her body trembled. Her hands tingled. She knew, it had to be him. But how?

She slowly raised her hand. Trembling, she softly touched the hand on her shoulder.

It was rough, calloused, and hairy. His hands. His precious hands.

Hands she had held a thousand times, but now was scared to be touching.

“You can’t be here,” she said, her voice cracked. “It’s not possible.”

His hand let go of her shoulder as it took her own hand. “Oh, it’s possible.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. Her knees went weak.

She could hear her heart pounding. She was afraid he could hear it as well.

Her love. Her love had returned. But how? She kept asking herself that question.

She could feel his hand on hers. It was his hands, no doubt about that.

Sadness came into the voice, “Susan, please. Look at me.”

She started to cry. “I can’t. If I look, you won’t be there. It’s just a dream.”

She wanted to turn and look at him. To see his face. His beautiful blue eyes.

Eyes that could look into her soul. Eyes that knew more about her than she knew herself.

His hand let go of hers. She put her hand on her shoulder where his had been.

In a quick movement, both his hands were around her waist. He pressed himself against her.

She could feel his arms around her from behind. Feel his thighs against hers.

His stomach pressed against her hack. His chest against her shoulders.

She felt his face leaning in, smelling her hair. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

“Does this feel like a dream?” he asked.

She gasped for air, not realizing she had been holding her breath.

His hands searched her. Slowly feeling every inch they could reach. Her flesh tingled.

She felt his need as she realized her own.

All she wanted to do was turn around and fall into his arms.

His strong, powerful arms. Arms that had held her when she had cried.

Arms that she desperately longed to be in.

She tried to make herself turn around.

In her mind, she could see herself turning around to see him.

His hot breath was against her ear. He kissed it. She moaned.

“I can’t turn around. You’re not here. You can’t be,” she said with her eyes closed.

One of his hands went between her legs and pressed hard. “I’m here,” he groaned.

She leaned her head back against his shoulder and moaned again. She could feel him pressing against her. From the front and the back. He rocked her from behind.

His other hand went to her breast, massaging it softly. “Don’t you want to see me?”

She reached her hand up to his face. Her fingers touched his chin. She could feel his stubble.

His cheek was against hers. His lips found their way to the corner of her mouth.

She leaned her head back more and turned it slightly so she could kiss him.

She pulled his head down by his hair. His course, thick hair. She had her eyes closed.

As soon as she felt her lips touch hers, she opened her mouth to moan.

Oh how she wanted to see him! She had missed him so much. But this wasn’t possible.

She stopped.

This wasn’t possible. The thought made her heart ache. She could feel him stop as well.

He was slipping away. She could feel his hands slowly falling away.

“No, don’t go. I love you,” she cried. She could still feel her need. She was sweating now.

She heard nothing.

Quickly she spun around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him one last time before he was gone.

Too late.

Darkness was all she saw.

Her heart broke. She sank to her knees on the floor.

She wept. She knew it had only been a dream. A sweet, sweet dream of her dear love.

Her hands went to cover her face as tears streamed down her cheeks.

She cried for him.

She cried for their love.


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