In the Still of the Night

Another dream came to me. We met again, sitting next to each other on the sun-draped bench. Our hands naturally meshed, one fitting in the other, the way it was always meant to feel. An awkward moment followed as we realized what we were doing, and our hands retreated. Another, even more awkward silence followed. We hadn't seen each other for a year, so perhaps it was too fast and too hasty. We sat there uncomfortably struggling between running to each other as our hearts desired, and sitting there to protect ourselves from the hurt in the past.