Bittersweet Dreams

I held his hand that day; just out
of impulse, of desperation, of pure longing. He didn’t squirm, he was not
surprised. Instead he squeezed my hand back, and held it tighter. I wondered, I
speculated, a million “Why’s” on why he reacted that way. Let other people
think of whatever they want. Just let me savor this moment.


We went somewhere. The stupid hand held his again. He didn’t squirm, he was not
surprised. He just held it back… tightly.


We weren’t a couple, no, not even an item. He never courted me, he ignores me, he
disregards me. He RARELY contacts me. I’m clueless on how much or how little he
cared about me. Yet he held my hand back… and it was tighter than mine. That’s
something for me. Too bad I woke up to morning’s light.



-When Dreams Meld with
Reality