stopitstopitstopit

The first dream, a few weeks ago: What was happening? I don't know. We were standing across from each other, his hands were on my shoulders and my hands were flat on his chest under the dip of his collarbones. We weren't moving or speaking; we simply stared at each other from arm's length apart.

The second dream, a few days ago: He was sitting at a table? I don't know. He was sitting and looked thoughtful. Melancholy.

The third and forth dreams, separated by a brief awakening, last night: We were in Busan, trying to purchase train tickets from the automatic ticketing machines to get back to Masan. There was a code or game or something on the machine that we had to touch and move to get our tickets. We couldn't figure it out, so we had to stay in my old apartment in Waegwan. I pulled back the comforter on the bed and lay down in it. He got in next to me; he was wearing the same sort of undergarments that WC wears/wore, plain black. I curled myself against him. He felt smooth and warm.

...interlude...

We were going to sleep on the beach. He was angry with me? Not quite angry. Not fire angry. More like irritated. Rubbed the wrong way. I lay down on the sand and felt alone. I sent him a text message asking him to come. He came, reluctantly but coming just the same, and sat down on the sand next to me. I put my head against his side. He felt smooth and warm.

There was nothing sexual about the feelings in either of these dreams.