Last night, I dreamed I danced with a dead man. He held me so tenderly in his arms, his every movement was infused with yearning for what could have been. He whispered to me that he loved me, he needed me, and that he forgave me. I asked him what he was forgiving me for. "I forgive you for killing me," he replied.
Now that I'm awake, I know that I have no idea who this man in my dream was. He does not look anything remotely like any man I know. But while it was happening, it hurt so badly I felt my heart twisting in my chest. I woke up sobbing, with tears just pouring down my face. His image has haunted me all day, his words echoing in my ears. And I still don't even know his name.
This is the first dream I have remembered in months, if not longer. In my mind, it is as solid as a memory, not just a dream. I have no idea why I dreamed this; I just hope it doesn't come again tonight. I don't think my heart can stand to be broken this badly again, even if only in my imagination.