I had dreamed about her so many times. He had imagined her in all kinds of scenarios, and yet type of dresses, from the

I had dreamed about her so many times. He had imagined her in all kinds of scenarios, and yet type of dresses, from the most provocative to the most elegant. I imagined it in silk dresses, long and suggestive, dancing with him in the light of the candles, an orchestra playing softly in the background, stars shining on the ground and in his eyes, feeling its heat passing through his clothes and reaching him in waves electrical. He had imagined her naked on black sheets, veils covering everything, swaying slightly in the breeze, his mouth half open, Wet, whispering his name, calling him to her side. The places, the postures, the clothes changed, but the face It was always the same, as were the sensations. And the pain when you wake up. The mix of frustration and erection. The smile on his mouth when he remembers her in his daydreams the tears in his eyes when he saw the loneliness of his bed. And another day at work. Sweet, bitter, cruel torture. See her sitting there. So close. So far. His table in front, just millions of kilometers away. His eyes, his hair, his mouth. Her breasts, her legs. TO a greeting from a distance. As far away as the most distant galaxy. And day after day in front of the mirror, wondering why. and of new at work. His smile, his voice. Idealized? Maybe. He doesn't exist. For she is nothing. But she is everything to him in his dreams. Many times it has doubted his ethics, his sanity. He doesn't care anymore. He has accepted it. He never will be happy. Except in his dreams. Decisions. Not being with any woman. Wait for the right moment. Wait for the ideal woman. And time passes. And the ideal woman does not arrive. and the decision becomes routine. And nothing matters anymore. It doesn't even matter that people know it. And endure and accept and overcome comments. Extravagant. Queer. Things better. Worse things. Always the doubt of the feeling of being pitied or belittled But it doesn't matter anymore. They say that the first step to complete happiness is to accept yourself. oneself. He is not interested in all those self-congratulatory ideas, thought up by people with worse problems than yours. He is happy in his dreams. In them she It's yours. And everything is perfect. He has stopped aspiring to something more. To something better. Because he knows there is nothing better for him. One day a change. Reorganization. New features. and the Eons of distance become meters. And idealization, everyone's dream the nights become meat. One day he finds himself working with her, side by side with elbow, beat to beat. And he discovers to his fright that she knows who he is, how he calls. He discovers, terrified, that he knows that he exists in that immense room full of computers and employees. He had always considered himself anonymous. Now I had a name and a face. And terror took hold of him. Days pass and dreams change. Now there is a voice in your dreams. Some more real gestures. There is a person. Look to your right. and that person is there. But it's different. It's not like in your dreams. It's real. And stop dreaming. Syllables become words. The words in phrases. Phrases in conversations. His idealized self has changed, he has become a being of flesh and blood and blood and viscera and sweat. And confusion takes over his. He discovers that the lover who shares his dreams cannot compete with she. Reality has become more powerful than your daydreams and fantasies. No he understands it. But he likes it. And he no longer imagines her dancing in the moonlight, nor naked at her feet. Now he only sees her as she is. Terror and confusion have missing. All the best. A pause. A coffee. A laugh. And life takes a new form of cruelty. Closer than ever. More real than ever. And further away than ever. And the mirror continues to remind him who he is and why he is like this. He was happy for a few days. Until the mirage disappeared. Your life is more confusing than ever. And darker. And remember all the mistakes. He confused a greeting, a look, a smile. He behaved like a teenager. and your dreams They have become nightmares. And his real self into something worse. It is cursed, hated, despised. He tries to fix it and everything It's worse than before. And he begs to return to the old ignorance, to place himself at millions of light years away. And he distances himself. He hides. Disappears. Flee to a world unreal. Find solace on the Internet. And his fury, his rage are reflected in semen that stains his hands, his sheets. Night after night. Find spaces where to share your frustration, your bitterness. And meet people. A new world of perversion and degeneration. Chaos takes over his life. He doesn't dream anymore. He doesn't know what he wants. He doesn't know what he's looking for. He doesn't know what he needs. Everything is bitterness and confusion. A meaningless life that rushes through a bottomless abyss. A black hole that is easy to enter but not easy to get out of. No There is no alcohol, no drugs, no sex. Just self-destruct. And time passes. And the tunnel never ends. And still without dreaming. Cry, scream, howl. But there is no consolation. The final exit attracts But the doubts about the method to carry it out are so many that discard. The cell phone rings. A message. "Let's forget the misunderstandings." An opportunity to start from scratch. To be able to look at it again without despise yourself. He doesn't ask for more. She will remain as unattainable as the most distant star. But it's okay. It's a small price. Days. Weeks. Months. And something opens in his mind. And one night he dreams. In his dreams he knows what the answer to the riddle is. The key It's fear. Fear of failure. Fear of falling. Dream that you climb a wall rocky He's never done it before, but here he is, climbing like he was born for it. Looking for supports for hands and feet where there is nothing visible to the naked eye what to hold on to. And inch by inch it rises slowly, until finally reaches the top. And he realizes how high he is, and how far away he is. it's all. How far away she is. You realize how afraid you are. fear of do something stupid But so what? if you do something stupid. The voice in your head speaks. The voice in your dream. Sometimes it is a mistake to climb. It's always a mistake, isn't it? even make the attempt. If you don't climb you won't fall. But is it so hard? fail? Is it so hard to fall? Sometimes you wake up, and the fall kills you. But to Sometimes when you fall, you fly. And wake up. Sweat covers his skin and his body trembles. And not remember nothing. But it's calm. Because you no longer have anything to fear. A break, a coffee. A smile. A cigarette. a good days. See you tomorrow. Nothing has changed, and everything has changed. It's night. The rain falls violently and forms rivers in the streets. He is grateful to have a car with which to return to the solitude of his house. For a moment he stands still, without starting, watching the drops hit against the windshield. And then he sees her. At the door, not deciding to go out, without an umbrella. He waves at her, sees him and runs towards him. She gets into her car soaked, laughing. Is like a burst of joy. Walking through the dark and empty streets she suggests stopping at somewhere to have something hot. He remembers his dream, he doesn't know why, but he remember, and smiling, he happily accepts. A quiet bar. Poor souls surprised by the storm They take refuge inside, drinking their drinks in silence, in the darkness, surrounded by the soft music of the radio. A secluded table, two glasses and two beings who share intimacy for the first time in their lives. Minutes that converted into hours. Coffees that turn into alcohol. Inconsequentiality becomes confidence. He only asks that the magic never end. But the moment of goodbye arrives. And the memory assails him of new. Fear of failure. Fear of falling. And he just wants to fly. for the first time in your life. A proposal. Surprise on his face. He doesn't breathe. Seconds that seem like centuries. And she accepts. One last drink at home, why not. By On the way he feels clumsy, she laughs internally noticing his nervousness. They arrive and the obligatory tourist visit begins, the kindness, education. When she asks him to relax, he smiles and turns away. sorry. He knows that he has started to fly. Music, a drink, conversation, confidences, laughter. And a kiss. He doesn't know how to react. He doesn't remember ever feeling nothing so wonderful. His lips placed on yours have been like a discharge electrical. If I wanted to describe it in words I would never be able to. You realize that has stopped breathing. Eyes that look at each other and tell each other everything. They transmit everything it cannot be done any other way. Each one sees something in the other, each one is different, Everyone knows what they are looking for and what they want, there is no need for words. Neither reasons, or explanations. It's now. Here. And nothing else exists. Neither yesterday nor tomorrow. Nobody else. Just them. There is no time or space. There is no reality. Does not exist nothing. And she kisses him again. The hands react and move with a life of their own. She guides and makes him discover a geography that he had only dreamed of, and that he never thought of that could be opened in this way. Like an explorer in virgin land, up and down hills and valleys, running my fingers over plains and forests. And hands on his own body, which are not his. Who seek what no one else has searched before. They find him, they caress him, they adore him. And tears begin to run down his cheeks. She kisses them. An explanation tries to get out of its lips, a long repressed shame wants to come to light, but she does not lets him talk. He whispers to him that he knows it, that he has sensed it, that he understands it, that He accepts it, and that today all that will end. The clothes fall to the floor with haste and disorder. The The bed, large, cold, empty, soon fills with life and warmth. Lips, caresses, fingers, skin, craving. Buds that run through all the nooks and crannies of the bodies. Tongues that taste flavors, that enter where they have never been before, to bring light to the darkness. There are no fears. There is no pain. There is no shame. Passion fills everything. There are no words. Just whispers, moans, gasps. The The night is filled with animal sounds, smells, liquids, sensations, light and color. Of secrets, of desire, of lust. She teaches him everything you have to learn. He learns and asks for more. And magic surrounds the room. Something has broken. Something has been born. Something has changed. Wake up suddenly. Sweat still covering his body, and for for a moment he doesn't know what happened, or where he is. Reality breaks through slowly in his brain and he turns to look at something he didn't expect to see never. His bed is not empty. And then he remembers and knows what has happened. AND cries. And smile. And he contemplates the naked body that sleeps next to him, that fills the emptiness of his bed. Look at her bare back, her hair spread in waves on the pillow, his white arms. And he smells it. Smell her skin and her hair, wishing I could keep that aroma forever and be able to smell it every day. He doesn't know what has happened, or what this means. don't know what will happen tomorrow He only knows that tonight has fallen. And it has flown. (This story is dedicated to someone special, although he says which is not Max)