Sometimes it snows in April...

I've been debating on updating lately. I've tried to formulate sentences to describe what I've gone through in the last few days, and then tried to write, but my heart wouldn't let me babble the words.

It's been a quite interesting week. Things have settled down. The incubus has not been haunting my dreams and inducing my nightmares lately. He's been dormant. I have this underlying feeling that he will surface, and adhere his parasitic aura to me. I'm not worried about that. My armor is strong and unyielding, this day.

What I'm worried about is...

The Dreamwalker.

I met a dreamwalker. It seems he opened a window and climbed into my life, so quietly while I slept. In the past few days of acquainting with the dreamwalker, I've divulged inner secrets that no one knows of me. Of course, I didn't offer any of this information, as I am a very clandestine woman, but, he exudes an ambiance that radiates complete calm. I can settle into myself, and not agonize about what I've done to make myself a slave unbeknownst to my masters.

The dreamwalker makes me feel alive, and wanted. He listens with utmost concern. In the short time that I've concerted with the dreamwalker, I've found he loves with his soul. He's opened his arms, and allowed me to be who I am. He's allowed his mind to be my playground where I swing on happy memories of his. He's also let me play inside his fantasies, wherein I wish I was the object of his lust.

I'm not afraid to taste your love...

Love. It's a very loaded and empty word to me, at this time. While I love talking to him, and sharing with him, I don't love him. Yet. I like him very much. He tickles my humor with twinges of truth and sanity. But he also feeds my insanity of wanting true love. Could he be the one? I search for this abstract lover in every relationship I encounter. This lover of mine, understands and cherishes me. Takes patience with me, and disciplines me when I'm incorrigible. He, nurtures my decaying love spirit as a rare bloom, in his care.

Can you hear me?

I don't plan on projecting any of this onto my dreamwalker. He is my confidante and muse. My accomplice, and my boy next door I lust in secret. He is the best friend you would tell all of your intimates to, but wish you were the woman he's carnal for. I can handle our relationship as friends. I can hang out with him, while I audition others for the starring role of the sitcom that is my life. I can write my sonnets to imaginary flames, with undertones of him being the alpha/omega of my microcosm. The chocolate to my peanut butter.

Welcome to my delirium...