Mine

Hopefully many can relate to the feeling of putting so much thought and energy into someone and not having them feel the same way. At least we have nights, our times of weakness.

For one real moment, you were mine. I was lying in bed and praying for sleep. You crept up behind me and put your arms around my waist. My hair was tangled in your fingers. I couldn’t see you, but I knew you were there. I could feel you. You rested your head in the space between my head and my shoulder and stayed there for a while. I could feel your eyelashes tickling my neck. As I breathed in your sweet aroma, I realized this was the happiness I had been craving for as long as I could remember. After hours of silence, I asked you how long you planned to stay. You didn’t answer, but merely came in closer. The sound of your breathing was enough to keep me sane for the moment. I wanted to break the barrier so badly, I wanted to turn myself around and trap you in a warm embrace. I didn’t want to let you go, I didn’t know if I could. I finally gave in, and turned around slowly. As I was turning, I could feel your hands loosen from my waist. I no longer felt your warm breathing against my neck. There was no tingle from your eyelashes. I turned, and you were gone. You were never truly there. I realized this is what we’re destined to be. You are mine whenever I conjure you in my mind, whenever I need your closeness to get me through the night. In reality, I see you walk the halls, barely glancing towards me. 

I’ll never forget the feeling of your hands on my waist, the feeling of your warm breathing, the feeling I had been craving for so long.

For one real moment, you were mine.

But I was never yours.

Reviews

[JeffT]

I find this a wonderful evocation of the romantic yearning we all feel at one time or another about someone. You've taken the additional dramatic step of turning the yearning into an actual incubus, and it works without taking things out of the realm of the real. You have a good ear for sentence rhythms and how to vary them to add a dramatic rhythmic dimension. Whether you recast the visual presentation slightly to make it look more like a poem or leave it as is and call it flash fiction, it's good. Thank you!