Sometimes the skin in my dreams doesn't even have a face attached to the sensation. it's a human form because that is what would be most likely to cause the accompanying feeling, but the face belongs to whoever happens to be occupying my thoughts at the time. i can almost accept the fact that it's no one i know at the moment; the one i'm after is disembodied. right now, she exists as a beautiful collage of characteristics, personality traits, and warmth. she's real in the sense that matters - in the effect she has on another person - me. the three dimensions of the physical world she occupies but on the fringe since she is only in my mind, and she is indeed timeless - one moment somewhere in the middle of the night spent grasping her hand or hugging her waist lasts all day, and it is enough. i can become a little disheartened when the possibility that i may never find her during the day crosses my mind, but as long as she visits during the night, i just might be ok. i won't let go of hope just yet, though; something tells me she's out there, and the miniscule glimpses of personality that i get now are but parts of a larger, more completely wonderful picture. if i'm fooling myself, i don't want to know about it.

a brief and terribly undescriptive return - 10.28.04
- - 09.17.04
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