A Livid and Lucid Dreamscape

It has been a week since the Box was opened.

For so long I have not felt the presence of another in such close proximity, have not experienced the tactile feedback that emanates from physical contact, have not had another human being so receptive of the attention that I am giving.

This is why people crave companionship, it makes you feel complete, like a manhole in your consciousness being filled in with just the right combination of cement and water.

It had not been easy, trying to shed the thoughts that have undoubtedly clouded my better vision and clearer judgment to wreak havoc with the bridge I had so painstakingly built to ferry the precious cargo across.

Indeed, thoughts are a wonderful thing, but at the opportune moment, thoughts can evolve into pointed missiles with the ability to completely remove resolve, conviction and determination.

Thankfully, this time, they became warm thoughts of tiny kittens frolicking in lush meadows slathered with expanses of green grass set against a picturesque backdrop of a bright and brilliant sun.

It has been a little too long, for I have forgotten the wondrous joys that reciprocity of liking entailed.

As I took your hand, you slowly pulled me closer.

As I stood stoically by your side, you gently placed your head upon my arm.

As I put my arm around your shoulders, you moved that bit closer.

As I placed my hand in yours, you grabbed my arm and held it close.

As we waited for the lights to change, you came close and held that moment until red turned to green.

Your tiny, seemingly-inconsequential actions translate into codexes of ancient knowledge that brought enlightenment and comfort to my battered soul.

Just for that, I am immensely grateful.

Even if this were but a hyper-realistic dream crafted by the most proficient of dreamcasters in the deepest reaches of my rarest REM cycle, I do not want to be awakened.

Ever.

Feed the fishes kids.