REM

My bed is soaked.  I sweated so much last night that I had to get up twice to put towels down.  This is the recurrence of the issues that caused this whole mess to begin with.  Well, not the issues, but symptoms that uncovered the issues.  I am worried, which is ridiculous since I would never have worried prior to having this knowledge.  It's not like I thought I was invincible, but I did think I was capable of healing.  I'm a prairie boy, after all.

In my fevered dream, he and I were on a trip to try to salvage what we have.  We stayed in a beautiful hotel room upstate.  I'm sure it's inspired by our few wonderful visits to Hudson.  When he took some time away from work, which was so rare, I felt relieved.  I'm so worried he's going to overwork himself into an early grave.  He's got huge ambition.  He's got a fire for fame.

In my dream, we couldn't seem to meet up.  I kept trying.  I kept texting and calling, asking, "where are you now?"  It was one of those dreams where you're chasing something you want so badly and the closer you get to it the further away it moves.  Sadness and frustration caused me to sit down and cry in a library.  Then I had to go to work so I got in a van and drove to the airport with a hippy.  We drove through rooms in the hotel, little sea-side villages with stormy seas, down hills.  It's around this point that I woke up.

I haven't really woken up though.   The interpretation of that dream is so simple and on the surface.  The more I pursue him, the more I push him away.  That's the hardest part about all of this.  I'm trying to hold onto my dream come true, and he's trying to hold on to the stone heart he's adopted.  It's a tragedy.  If he gave me just one more chance he would never again need to use that defense mechanism.  Never in his whole life.  I would make sure of it.

Last night a friend mentioned the full moon might be a good time to have wishes come true.  I know what I would wish for.  I would wish for him to genuinely want to reach out to me and hold me.  That's not so much to ask.  Just to hold me.  To be in his arms again would be the most wonderful wish granted.

I do miss the sex.  He had this way of touching me that was so intimate and so sweet.  It wasn't the most exciting sex I've ever had, but I would have been completely satisfied for the rest of my life.  He has a beautiful love-making style.  His hard muscles and soft skin played beautifully against my back when we fucked.  We stopped using condoms a few months ago.  I wish we hadn't.  I wish we still could.

What I wonder right now is whether things would have ended up this way had I tested negative.  I guess it's no sense dwelling on things like that, but since he broke up with me because I put him at risk I feel like I'm being punished for what might have been.  What might have been had I been negative?  I wonder if my moment of weakness would still have pushed him away.  I'm such a complete idiot for ever doing it.

I miss him so much.  More every day.  The gaping wound where my heart used to be is festering with the ooze of knowledge; the knowledge that we were the best fit.  He won't find another man like me.  I wonder when he'll realize that.  He won't find a man who will devote himself the way I have.  There is nothing I wouldn't do for him.  Nothing except let him go, which is the only thing he wants anymore.