I wonder what it means that I’m dreaming of you again. Can I see it as a mental balance to the everyday life, or am I running the risk of falling in love again?
That there’s no misconception - I love my life. It is full of responsibilities that make me proud. I have in my mind that I have always been very lucky , with my profession that I love, with my family that I love much more, cool hobbies, that’s no matter of course at all, I know.
But since I began to re-engage with my past and with you, the daydreams came back, too. They are different than before, but they have all the same ambition - a kiss from you.
I’m really a faithful soul and would never have even a thought on cheating my husband. Over all those years we’ve already been together now, there was no single moment I would have desired for another. Maybe I would make an exception with you. It depends on what an encounter with you would cause in me or if I’d feel nothing at all when you’d suddenly be real and no illusion romanticizes my look any more.
What luck for my guy that it will hardly come to such an encounter. Though that means to me I will probably take a part of the ballast from my past around with me forever. I can’t forget you, that’s for sure. For this it took too long and was too important to me. But maybe I can find some clarity when I put down some things on paper, that move me.



My hands felt the cloth of his shirt, the warmth of his body. His hug tore open an old wound, feelings long-forgotten, or just buried for years?
I stepped back, tumbling, tears filled my eyes, and I fought with a big lump in my throat. I was not prepared for the feelings of my past coming back to me with such a weight. The pleasure to finally see him mixed with an immense desire for touching him and the deep sorrow of my teenage dreams.
He gave me an inquiring look.
“That’s too much for me,” I whispered, “I guess I can’t control my feelings any more.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, I’m just a human like everyone else.”
He took my hand and led me into the garden.
“I’m not afraid of you, I’m afraid of coming too close to you.”
“Tell me.” He sat down on the garden swing and asked me to sit beside him. I leaned on him and imbibed his closeness. Tears ran over my face, of joy, of pain, I couldn’t tell it apart any more. For some minutes I still fought with the lump in my throat, then I could tell him, why I was here.


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