Dreaming

I get these strange visions of how I imagine things could be.  Watching you sleep, waiting for you while you work, whether it's for lunch or an after-work thing.  Listening to you rant, observing as you get frazzled and distracted.  Calming you when you're close to panic or a heart attack.  Laughing at you as you fumble through life, the epic fails and cockeyed moments.  Hearing your stories about your day, your work, your family, your friends and their love lives, their prospects or the lack of one.

They are small things, details, really.  They play so vividly in my mind, as if I were living it already.  Yet I stop myself from continuously conjuring up these images.  A part of me aches that they may never happen, so I temper my imaginings with a million things that could go wrong.

I've been down that road already.  Having plans, having dreams, imagining how life will turn out, only to have it all come crashing down.  Everything was swept away and I had lived dreamless and without expectations.  Neither surprised nor disappointed in life.

I've dreamed about these things before, but not as formed as I do now.  There were these dreams, but I could not imagine anyone in it.  Something changed, either through your sheer persistence or how real you are to me.  These dreams surreptitiously had you in it.  It opens a lot of things and I guess that's why I am scared and there's a pang that I might lose something before I could even have it.  I know what I'm dreaming of and I know who I want.  I don't want the fairies, I just want the fairy tale.