The Soldier

The Soldier

A Story by Diana Bishop

The Soldier

He was there last night in my dream. I don't remember where we were, maybe in his room where he resides far away across the country because the walls were coated with white and the blankets beneath me were not my own. From what my mind could make out, I woke up from resting in the dream and that was when I discovered his laying next to me, the soldier with his broad shoulders and firm chest that I didn't hesitate to rest my head on. He gave me the most warm, loving smile that made me feel cherished, wanted, and as light as air. He wrapped his muscular arms around me and for as long as the dream lasted, I truly felt and believed I was with him in person falling asleep in his arms. I could smell the aroma of his body wash that may as well be catnip for humans like me because the scent put me in a trance that only him, my soldier could break. I rested my hand on the left side of his chest, eager to feel every beat of his heart to know that he was a living, breathing person, who could not leave me. I lay here yearning for his tenderness that I have only experienced with him and him alone. 
By this point, my heart has become filled with infatuation and pure bliss that warm tears begin to escape from my eyes. He gently lifts my chin so our eyes meet and softly wipes away my warm tears, his hand lingers on my cheek for an extra moment. Suddenly, he looks concerned and I am confused as to why until he mumbles the words, "this isn't real." After the words escape his lips, I awake alone to the reality that is my dark and bitter bedroom with the full moon breaking through my window at two in the morning. Just another dream. Damn it. 

© 2017 Diana Bishop


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This is a strong display of thoughts and emotions--dreamy and pleasant, then sad and too real. Long ago when I allowed myself, I had similar dreams.

Posted 7 Years Ago



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Added on October 13, 2017
Last Updated on October 13, 2017

Author

Diana Bishop
Diana Bishop

About
I'm the woman no one seems to notice, the one who always has her nose in a book, but don't think I don't notice all of you. It's the people around me who are in my writings. It's the people around me .. more..

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