can we still be friends?

we can't play this game anymore
but can we still be friends?
things just can't go on like before
but can we still be friends?

That is the plan. Nights like last night, though, erode all my resolve to just aim for friendship. Last night's dreaming was...easy, and difficult, both, and...neither I say lightly. They weren't nightmares, which is a huge relief, but they were intense, overwhelming, compelling...erotic.



we had something to learn
now it's time for the wheel to turn
grains of sand, one by one
before you know, it's all gone

It started out with flashbacks, with reliving memories, with embedding into lived experience. This is not unusual--I tend to fall into memories, recollections, sense events, with sometimes appalling regularity. But this was...different. If I didn't know better, if I didn't understand the distinctions being made, if I did not, in fact, know that I was dreaming--I would have sworn I was not alone in the bed, that there was another beside me, playing all the chords to encourage me to sing.



let's admit we made a mistake
but can we still be friends?
heartbreak's never easy to take
but can we still be friends?

And more charnel bones tipped into the firebox, heat becoming intense, because, right now, I can't think about this with a calm and cool head. I can still hear his whispered urging, still feel the play of heated breath over my skin, and I have to keep telling myself this was just a dream.



it's a strange sad affair
sometimes seems that we just don't care
don't waste time feeling hurt
we've been through hell together

And if there wasn't something my subconscious thought I should realize, my brain wouldn't be tormenting me with drunken sensual remembrance; I know that. A lot of times it just breaks down to my brain being a consummate teenager, pouting because the parental units just don't understand, cannot understand, they've forgotten how it feels to be seventeen and in serious lust...And again, I know that. To put it in less flattering terms, this is my subconscious kicking the traces. I get it.

But.



it's a strange sad affair
sometimes seems that we just don't care
don't waste time feeling hurt
we've been through hell together

But, when my dreams turn like this, it is occasionally hard to remember that it's just defiant immaturity. Last night, especially...Let me be clear: while nightmares are a constant, I have never, not once, had a nightmare of someone I trusted not accepting no for an answer. This is key. (And the downside of that is, yes, if I stop trusting someone, they've occasionally turned up as torturers in the nightly plays, disobeying all previous rules.)



can we still be friends
can we still get together sometimes?

That is, thankfully one line, at least, my brain refuses to cross. But I know I was begging--abject, audibly, shuddering, pleading, the 'no', the 'stop', so very nearly on my lips, but...never...never...explicitly uttered.

Thought, though. Begging, though. Begging for--surcease? Release? Mercy? Whatever it was, it wasn't given, and I woke in much the same state--shuddering, gasping, still whispering please, unable to draw in a full breath for sweeping pleasure. And I had to struggle to get my breathing back under control.

Exactly as if I had not been alone...



hey babe, can we still go on?

I won't say I'd rather have nightmares. My brain is far too facile with evisceration scenarios, so thank you, no, they can stay down with the alligators. But that dream has stayed with me all day, every time I close my eyes, a series of entwined jolts, gasps, and want, the still-intense desire searing through me, the flames still high.

So...yes. There are things still to work on. Obviously.



we awoke from our dream,
things are not always what they seem
memories linger on
it's like a sweet, sad, old song

It may just take time. Remove the immediacy of recollection, erase the sharp edges, fuzz the sensory recall. Let the days pass into weeks, and into months, and into years, until I can think back on sensuality shared and just have the occasional twinge and smile.

At least...that's the hope. Dear gods, if it stays this intense...that will...not be good for me.

And of course, the question now circling the steam tower...

can we still be friends?

I still want that. I do. I still think it's possible. I think we have taken strides forward to reworking things from fevered need to friendly discourse, and I...think...we have a good chance to remain on that path.

But nights like last night...they do make the end goal less assured, and more desperate. And they practically ensure that the next time I spend time, in person, with him...that I will be very locked down, all the unease back, all that flinching fear back, and it had just started to ebb, damn it.

And every time I close my eyes... Maybe it's time to stay awake for a while.

(Photos taken on the Vaak Rift sim [Adult], Kralovstvi Temple Court [Moderate], Masija [Adult], Black Nest [Moderate] and Angelstar Manor on Isla Ballenas [Adult]. Lyrics from Robert Palmer's Can We Still Be Friends?)