Sometimes, in your life, someone, somewhere, will light a fire inside you; an immoral itch, a forbidden lust if you will. It is difficult when this happens, you want them so bad you can taste them; you can smell their passion in your nostrils. Your dreams at night become heatedly disturbed, and pleasantly moved, by their presence there, and you awake in the morning with the flavor of them still on your tongue, the feel of them at your fingertips, a feeling so real that you turn to look for them only to see that they are not there, but the passion of the dream still moistens you, uncomfortable but pleasing just the same.
This may be someone you know, or have just met, or haven’t met quite yet. But even if they offered, overtly or subtly, to make you illusionary dream a bit of reality, circumstances would force you to turn them down; no matter how difficult that decision would be. For the friendship of the imaginary lover, and/or the friendship of others, may be more important than fulfilling a dream of passion. Then, still, you would spend your nights longing for the taste, for the feel, for the smell of the one that sparks a fire in your very soul, a burning so intense you are not sure how long chaste feelings to this dream lover will last.
I know this feeling, I feel this fire almost daily; and I weaken every passing hour.
