A Story.

It was cold.

I instinctively snuggled deeper into the folds of my comforter as the night wore on, my eyelids already unmovable and my mind floating between its hallucinations and the reality of my situation - being in the same bed, in the same room, with the same right-before-I-go-to-sleep thoughts. Recently, they had become thoughts of him.

My consciousness flitted between my thoughts and subliminal imaginings, roping bits of both together to form a solitary dream-like scene in which I found myself, even though I knew it wasn't real and I was barely hanging on to this fantasy by a thread. He clouded my vision with his awkward movements, but movements that had grown on me and that I in turn had grown to love. He smiled a smile that said much more than it appeared, and hid even more than it said.

I smiled back. Just because I was happy to see him. And also because I wanted to know what he was hiding behind those curved lips of his.

Why are you smiling? I asked.
He held out his hand before my face, palm towards me. Take my hand, he said. Maybe you'll find out.
His smile widened with his secret schemes, as did mine, only with curiosity. I raised my arm tentatively.

Go on.

I looked at him, truth weighing down on the corners of my smile. Why? Sure I would have loved to feel his lean, tender hand in mine, but I couldn't have. Not apart from this dream. This is a dream; I'm only dreaming. Sure, I could put my hand in yours but - but I won't feel it. I can't do anything but imagine that I'm holding your hand. What's the point?

He just smiled. Don't you want to hold my hand, to feel it? Because I want yours.

He didn't say anything, much less wait, just reached out, meeting my skin which was just inches away from his previously outstretched hand and so gently but surely coming closer, wrapping his fingers around mine. I let the muscles in my stiffened hand contract, just as slowly curving in around his hand.

And then, I felt it.

SHIT SCARY WEIH.
I mean, how would you feel if you were just imagining meeting up with this person in your head and holding his hand in your head and then suddenly feeling exactly what you should be feeling in real life?! Because that's what happened and I am so certain what I touched was a hand, a real life pulsing human hand, and not just my pillow, or toy bear, or bunk bed railing because none of those things feel like a human hand, with fingers closing in around mine and everything.
By then I was fully awake, of course, still feeling that grip on my hand. It felt exactly like his hand holding mine in the exact same tender way he did before I was shocked back to consciousness. And the weirdest part is, as I slid my hand out of that odd feeling of a hand, it didn't hold on to me as if it knew I was freaked out of my skin and this was just plain nuts.
After awhile, I got over my initial shock. In fact, I got over everything, including the fear. I was that exhausted. And on hindsight, it was actually pretty cool. I mean, I wouldn't mind the same thing happening again, actually.
This time though, I'll keep my eyes open.