I Dreamed of Him, He Found Me

I dream of him. Every night.



He enters my sleep like a sweet burn.

He doesn’t speak. He looks at me. He takes me. And I feel everything.

His hands. His skin. His breath. His weight.



When I wake up, the sheets are still wrapped around my thighs,

my throat is dry, my stomach tight with a delicious cramp that won’t go away.

He doesn’t exist. But my body doesn’t care.

My body knows him. My body craves him.

Again. And again.



I don’t understand. I’m going insane.

I search for him in other people’s eyes. In the streets.

I can still hear his voice I’ve never heard.

Smell his scent I can’t even name.



It’s an obsession.

An addiction.

A need stronger than reality.



And then one day… I see him.



I’m not asleep anymore.

But my body reacts like I still am.



And that’s when I know—

What I used to dream of… has just begun.