You come to me in my dreams; I don’t see you but I feel you, touching my face, whispering the things I need to hear. You make my heart race and my soul shine. I feel I could be happy. I don’t deserve to be happy. You calm the inner turmoil bringing the tranquillity I have been craving but have been unable to obtain. Who are you?
I desperately search for you everywhere I go. I want my dreams to become a reality and yet apprehensive that if they do I would disappoint you the way I’ve always disappointed myself. Where are you?
I feel you know me and yet how can you know me and still want me? Still be here? I hover from peacefulness in your presence to panic that I cannot be who you think I am. Who do you think I am?
I want to tell you everything and nothing. I wish you could crawl inside me and feel what I feel. I long for you to just know without the need for explanations and recriminations. Do you think I am so benevolent? What if I’m not? What if I’m not who you think I am? Who am I?
Do you look at me and see something good? I really want to be the girl you see. For her to exist would be like scrubbing out the dark side of me and filling it with light, a thousand dancing angels spreading joy and love. I am tainted and you are too late to be my salvation. Redemption is not always deserved and anyway I have done little to earn it. What do you expect from me?
Last night I again felt your soft touch on my cheek bringing comfort where there was fear, calm where there was anger, making me the person I want to be. I need you. Do you need me?
I reach out for you, I want to touch you, to feel you, to be you. I love you. Do you love me?
The bright light disappears and you come into focus. I find myself staring into my own eyes. Confusion fades as realisation dawns. I had got so scared to feel, so shut off to my own existence that I lost sight of who I really am. I had the light within me all the time I just needed, to forgive myself, to love myself. I accept I am good enough. I am enough.
I am filled with knowing, the understanding that the one whose love, acceptance and kindness I need is me. I am the one I have been waiting for. Overwhelming feelings of love wash over me and I can feel my body filling with an inner peace as my negativity and self-loathing quietly slip away.
I awake. I can feel. I am home. I am whole.
fabricating fiction 
Absolutely loved this. I didn’t know where it was leading–perhaps an incubus? A satisfying ending. It is so liberating when we can forgive ourselves, love ourselves, and accept ourselves, warts and all.
Thanks. I wasn’t sure where it was leading either!
For the most part, my stories start out with just a sentence that pops into my head, and I follow where it leads me. Most of the time, it’s down an unknown road.