My dream from a couple nights ago:

WE were in a strange living room, kind of like the one in that movie Renee and I used to watch when we were little kids, you know, the one we knew was naughty because we found it on top of her dad's closet. There was a long couch against one wall and a TV against the other. THere wasn't anything else in the room. The room was rectangular. In my dream, it was your living room. You stood there half naked, A baggy wifebeater and a pair of boxers. We both knew we were together at that specific time just to have sex. It was our goal. I was fully dressed wearing a short sleeved shirts, a pair of jeans, and a Pumas. Even though i never wear short sleeved shirts OR own a pair of Pumas. I was on top of you, my hair was up, and i whisper-laugh-told you something. We weren't trying to be quiet but it came out that way anyways. The next thing i know you're on top, we're both laughing. Push. Pull. Roll. Agressive. I'm on top again. I'm thinking of *him* (the him that's my current and the him that i still have a thing with. Yes, the him i wish i had the chance to be with) and i'm feeling incredibly guilty. But stronger than the guilt is the obligation to you, the urgency and need *knowing* that the guilt doesn't matter. I try to think of a way to justify what we're doing and i can't. I can't because i care about him too much. You two have never met. I hope you never do. He's too important to me and you're too hurtful. Side by side and we're laughing and we pause to look at the TV. The colors are mesmerizing and we lose ourselves in THe Price Is Right and that guy who hosts the show is talking. I'm lying there, using your arm as a pillow, your still half dressed and i'm still fully dressed. We're just laying there. That's where your brother walks in and makes a comment about you getting some action and i feel embaressed knowing it isn't going to happen but everyone thinks it anyways. You both laugh. I hide my face in the floor.