UGH

Yesterday afternoon I awoke from what began as a serene dream--full of wish fulfillment and erotic satisfaction--with an ache in my heart muscle. With the exception of waking up crying from dreams a few years ago, I don't recall a dream evoking emotions powerful enough in the unconscious to bring me to consciousness.
The memory was vivid on awakening but as the mist of sleep lifted I felt its potency evaporating; ignoring the strength of will I employed to hold onto the finer details and emotion jarring perceived truths.

This is how the dream unfolded--as best I can recount, accuracy may be compromised--

It was an airy spring day (light jacket weather), I was perched in a basket chair in what appeared to be Zayan's new apartment and he was leaning back on his expansive bed. For some reason there was a parade of people moving in and out of his common space--to my best estimation it had an open house vibe. We were enjoying our typical caliber of banter--chuckles abounding--when conversation turned to his "present" chica.
The actual subject of conversation is hazy--I'm pretty sure I brought her up--but as we talked the room seemed to shrink or maybe we just moved closer to one another. We sat facing each other cross-legged on the floor, knees touching, breath in each others' faces. You can imagine the tension at that proximity--the sexual tension. We were each hesitant to close that final gap: couldn't have been more than a few inches, half a foot at best. The anticipation was palpable, the energy astronomical.

My mind was blank, my heart was racing and my patience was waning. For once, I chose to let nature take her course. I sat as still as I could and kept reminding myself to breathe. We sat like that for a while; it felt like an eternity. Finally, we were kissing...I have no idea how it happened or who initiated it, but there we were kissing. It was just like that Chris Rock sketch--my entire being was singing because we were kissing. I felt 14!

But unlike when I was 14, I wanted more and more was on its way to being had. Hands were everywhere, clothes were falling to the floor...the floor was no longer under us, there was plush bedding and Bounty-Fresh linens. But before matters could truly escalate to a level that precludes all others--Zayan pulled back.

He reverted into himself and I felt it happen before it did. The few seconds I had to prepare for his withdrawal were devastating in and of themselves, but more so I was devastated by the stopping. After all this time waiting for it to start up again, to be so close and stop was heart-breaking. Not nearly as gut-wrenching as the original heart-break, but the heartache was back. It's the dull pain in your chest cavity with no medical cure.

There we lay in a familiar position as complete strangers. I wanted to cry but no tears were forthcoming. He wanted to speak but no words were accommodating him. We just lay there. A few moments later, the figure that represented his "person" entered the room searching for her panties. That was the last straw. I climbed out of bed and in lieu of getting dressed and walking out sat back down on the basket chair. Zayan was in an awkward predicament, but I didn't care. She didn't notice me consumed as she was in her hunt for red panties. His deer caught in headlights look didn't pass till she gave up her search, kissed him lightly on the lips, and departed. Then it ws back to just us...sitting, staring, and being uneasy.

We had nothing to say that had not been rehashed a thousand times before and neither of us is much for repetition. Finally, he looked at me--directly at me--and said, "I cant' do it. I'm sorry I can't do it." I nodded mutely--hearing the tear in my heart--feeling it widen and spill emotions I'd locked up a long time ago. He didn't approach me--I knew he wouldn't, but I had still hoped--he just looked at me with trepidation, unsure what I would do next. I sighed, hugging myself tighter in the basket chair, trying to take up as little space as my body would contort to let me inhabit. Finally, I asked him, "What do you want from me? Why am I even here?"

And as the question haunts my days, haunted me two nights ago...I awakened with that question in the forefront of my mind, consuming my being and reverberating through my brain. He didn't want drama and I didn't want to give it to him--but there we were like we've always been--dramatically drawn and withdrawn.