a nap time dream

[I hardly ever dream. I suppose it might have something to do with how active my imagination is; I must use up all my good material during my waking hours. Or, it might have something to do with my strange sleeping habits: four to five hours most days, followed by a day of twelve hours to catch up. While taking a nap this afternoon, I had a very interesting dream that I was actually unaware was a dream while I was in it, whereas most of my dreams seem to feel like I am watching myself as a character from overhead and actively aware of the dream as it happens.]

I am in a house that is mine, I live there, it is different than anywhere I have lived previously. It is a well lived in arrrangement, a sense of dinginess prevails, a feeling of being lived-in is evident, the walls are full of murals. I am searching the house for something, but when I come across a man sitting on a low plush object--a beanbag, maybe?--he jumps up to greet me. He has on glasses that are extremely reflective and for a while it is hard to see his eyes. He is tall, handsome and strong. He picks me up. I know him. He is mine. I am his.

He carries me from room to room and I wrap my legs around his hips and we are very happy. He has light brown hair that might have been blond when he was a child. He is wearing a t-shirt. He greets other people in rooms, they know him. He is ecstatic to see me. He is not only smiling, he is laughing and giggling. I stare into his eyes--past the lenses of his glasses--which are milky with blindness. I wonder if he has been blind since birth or because of an accident. He hears something in a faraway room and tells me so, and I resist the urge to compliment him on his excellent sense of hearing, because I think it's just a reminder of his eyes being gone, and it seems obvious his hearing would be vastly better than mine. He nuzzles my neck as he carries me, and I shriek with joy. I am amazed that he can carry me around so easily.

Finally I land on something, a table of some sort, and he begins exploring me with his hands. His hands are gentle and kind, and I am watching his face, which is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. His lips are full and soft and they tremble. I know he is going to kiss me and I imagine what it will feel like when he does. I am expectant, waiting, ready.

[I wake up.]