Skip to main content

I first met him in my dream


I often dream of that place.

I want to become the person in my dreams. I record them, hoping to find their traces. I want to experience them as best as I can. And if it's possible, I want my warm dreams to consume me.

I wish I wouldn't wake up from these dreams. When I wake up, only a cold wall will stare at me. There is no loving gaze like what I see in my dreams. I yearn for that gaze. There is no gentle touch like what I feel in my dreams. I yearn for that touch. There are no warm feelings like what I sense in my dreams. I yearn for that warmth. I wish I could stay in those dreams. 



—-

I first met him in my dream.

He looked just like the man I yearn for, but he had sadness and loneliness in his eyes. I thought he was just an apparition, but he kept appearing, looking at the woman next to the man I yearn for with such longing eyes. So I took my first steps to approach him. He had a confused look in his eyes when he saw me. I asked him who he was and if he knew or related to the man. He said he wanted to be that man.

At that moment, tears rolled down my cheeks and he wiped them with his thumb. "Don't cry," he said. He looked both concerned and relieved when he touched my cheek and said, "I will stay with you, until you don't feel like crying anymore."

Every night we met in dreams. We gazed at the couple, watching them from afar. Slowly his eyes started to look warm. Then one day, I grabbed his hand and took him to a dessert cafe. He looked very awkward but I could see he was enjoying the macarons we had. He looked at me with a gentle smile and said, "As long as I have something sweet, I'll be happy even on a bad day."

I woke up. He wasn't around, just like the man I always yearn for, and I wonder if he would still eat sweets wherever he is now. I hope he at least feels happy with the sweets. Because I only wish happiness for him.

My dear Dawnbreaker.

----

----

Guest post by Erin @akiyamaerin on IG



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I am your present

The room is warm, the air thick with candlelight and the faint trace of her perfume. The scent is something delicate, lingering—like jasmine after rain, like something meant to be remembered. He sits on the couch, his suit immaculate, posture relaxed but precise. The low glow of the lamps catches the sharp cut of his jaw, the composed stillness of his expression. His eyes—dark, unreadable—follow her with quiet certainty. Always watching. She stands before him, wrapped in the softest whisper of lingerie, satin ribbons hugging her curves. A bow sits tied around her waist, its message written in careful script: “I am your present.” A slow smile plays at her lips as she tilts her head, letting the anticipation stretch just a little longer. Then, her voice—low and smooth—breaks the hush. “I told you yesterday I had a present for you.” She watches the way his gaze lingers, not just on her skin but on the meaning behind her words. “Did you like it?” His reply is quiet, measured. No hesitation...

Tasting rights

The sun was just starting to set when they finished establishing their camp for the weekend. It was warm out, comfortable enough to take their time while preparing their meal. Lei was busy laying out some fruit, mostly strawberries, sorting them by color and softness. She ran her fingers lightly over each one before handing them to Xavier, who deposited them into a bowl. He kneeled quietly beside her, but close enough that the others wouldn’t forget who she had come with. Lassy crouched by the fire, stirring the lit coals with the end of a stick. Zayne hovered closely behind her. He was silent as usual, just adjusted the grill and stayed near, steady as he always was. She let the heat rise. Near the cooler, Sylus was picking through bottles of flavour-infused mead, humming and turning each one in his hand like he was selecting a vintage wine. “Cherry or strawberry?” he asked, holding up both bottles. His tone was light, but the glance he gave Zayne said he hadn’t forgotten who had got ...

“No Main” and the Illusion of Fairness in RP

In roleplay (RP) communities, especially those centered on romantic storytelling, there’s always this question of whether a love interest (LI) should have a “main MC,” or treat all interactions equally. It might seem like a stylistic choice at first, but it carries deeper emotional, creative, and social consequences. While a “no main” approach may seem fair in theory, I believe it’s more honest, and ultimately kinder, to acknowledge emotional resonance and personal bias. Rather than pretending neutrality exists, creators and players alike should strive for fairness through awareness, not through denial. One of the clearest benefits of having a main MC is narrative depth. When a writer consistently engages with the same person, chemistry grows, continuity strengthens, and emotional arcs feel earned instead of episodic. It allows the LI to craft posts with someone specific in mind, not just for content or visibility. This intimacy shifts writing from performance into connection. And emo...