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Again.

The same one.

I was standing behind you,
just a few steps away,
and yet it felt
as if an entire world
stood between us.

I was calling you.
Not with my voice,
but with my heart.
With that quiet, fragile part of me
that says your name
like a prayer.

I was calling you
the way you call someone
you love more than pride.
More than reason.

But you turned
and began to walk away.

Not because you don’t love.
Not because you don’t feel.
But as if something were pulling you forward,
something stronger than us.

And I remained there,
with hands reaching for you,
with a heart burning
with longing.

In that dream
I wasn’t crying.
I was only feeling
how love was expanding in my chest
and hurting
because it had nowhere to go.

I woke up
with tears I hadn’t planned.
With the same feeling
of calling you
and not knowing
if you hear me.

And maybe that’s why the dream haunts me,
because I love you
so deeply
that even my subconscious fears
the day
I might have to let you go.

But even in that dream,
as you were walking away,
one thing was certain:

I loved you.
The way you love only once.
Without end.
Without restraint.

Awake, and in sleep.