Remnants of a Dream, Both Before and After Awakening

Woke to an empty bed He wasn't there. Overwhelmed by a cluttered kitchen left from the night before A freshly cut green pepper and lemon lying on the counter He's asleep on the sofa wrapped in the wine-colored robe I had given him. I crawled into his arms, unwelcomed, Why didn't you come to bed? I couldn't sleep, the sleepy reply. There's the bottle, now nearly empty of its golden liqueur, the sweet object of his affections through the night. What are you hiding from that drives you to drink? I'm almost afraid to ask. He sighs, avoids my gaze, I want to leave, he tells me quietly. The first awareness of the ache in my heart Now softened by the passage of time. The clock radio comes on with the last passages of Samuel Barber's Adagio, mirroring a sadness I'd thought was long gone. Recalling my dream, I touch the ache in my heart that began some eight years ago now ...and breathe... It's much fainter now, not nearly so painful. I contemplate my life and I am grateful. Praise God for it all, Every seeming loss, every apparent gain. Maybe I'm ready now ...I'd like to think that I am... To deal with the left overs, Confront the overwhelm, Clear out the boxes and the dross I've been carrying around since that time, To be more present, more alive, More available today To Love.