Nightmare

I had a nightmare last night. One of those hyper-real dreams that leave you confused when you finally awake and stick with you persistently as false memories. I rarely have nightmares, but when I do, it's invariably the hyper-real variety. And I hate them with a passion.

Legs left me in the dream. Boom, out of the blue. She'd found someone new. She hadn't planned on it, hadn't expected it, but it happened and she was fine with that. To say I was shocked, stunned, devastated is an understatement.

"How long?" I'd asked.

"Six months," she answered. "The surprising thing is how easy it was to keep it from you."

We met twice in the dream, first for the terrible revelation and then again for a final, chance encounter at the home we'd shared. As dream logic goes, I knew this was the last time she and I would ever be alone together. She was uncomfortable being so near to me--not because she feared or despised me, but because of the guilt my presence evoked. I can't remember the conversation we had, but it was a sad, wounded thing. What stood out the most was her dispassion toward me. She no longer felt any love for me, that was clear. But she bore me no animosity, either. My love for her was irrelevant. She'd made her decision, and I just happened to be collateral damage.

I could keep the house, she said, if I bought out her share. If not, we'd sell and split the proceeds. She'd already moved in with the new guy, so it made no difference to her. Cold.

Her last words to me: "Don't make this any worse than it has to be."

I awoke at 2 a.m., trembling with my heart racing. Legs slept on beside me. It took me quite a while to calm back down, convince myself it was only a dream and go back to sleep.

When I recounted the dream to Legs this morning, she winced at those last words. "I suppose you're going to be angry with me for the rest of the day because of that dream?" she asked. It's something of a running joke between us that she holds me responsible for unpleasant things her subconscious has me do in her dreams (which happens with surprising frequency). I was still too shaken for a witty comeback. In truth, the echos of that crushing emptiness are still with me. Even though I know them for the lies they are, they feel real.

I don't quite know what triggered that particular dream. In close to two decades together, we've had a few big fights and countless petty squabbles but nothing serious enough to separate us. If I put myself on the therapist's couch, I'd say insecurity about my dramatically diminished libido (as a result of my bupropion prescriptio) is the root cause. While that's certainly a contributing factor (in the dream, Legs and her new man had taken delight in fucking for hours on a daily basis after I'd left for work), the truth is that Legs has made not secret of the fact that she's happy with the current state of affairs. Despite her hot body, her libido's always runs several gears slower than mine, and she likes having my cock when she's craving it and not the other way around.

She and I have been together a long time, and I can honestly say I'm more attracted to her now than I've ever been. Until now, though, I don't think I'd quite realized just how indispensable she is to me.