I had a dream last night, a very, very nice dream.

I don't remember a lot about it anymore. I think I was engaged, but I'm not sure.

I was me, but I wasn't me, you know? Sometimes I was in my skin (which wasn't me, Rosie, but someone else), and sometimes I was hovering, watching myself.

I wish I remembered more of the details.

I remember one part very clearly, and you'll see why.

The guy I was involved with (my fiance?) was sneaking a kiss with me in me bedroom.

It was, I think, about 1920's. My mother didn't approve of snuck kisses. But we did.

Not kissing, really. He didn't kiss me. He was pushing me backwards, through a doorway, with the force of his body.

He was taller than me, but not by much, with darker skin than mine (that's not hard). A dark tan, maybe? I think it was natural skin tone, though. I didn't see his face in this part, because he was backing me into a dark room and the room behind him was light, so he was backlit.

He had his left arm around my waist, pressing my against his body, and his other hand on one side of my neck, and he had his face pressed into the curve of my neck, biting and nibbling and driving me *crazy*.

It was a nice dream.

Then Tyne woke me up.

BAH.

.

Rosie.

PS, Coincindentilly, this my nine-hundredth and ninety-ninth entry.

Before&After