

As she turned in her bed to peer at the man beside her, she wondered if he would ever be that man she dreamed of.  Every star splattered night that passed she dreamed of a man she thought she loved.  A man whom she adored and followed wherever his path lead.  Like a haze over a dense, crowded, city, her memory of that man faded with every waking breath.  So there she lay, staring at the real man next to her, snoring and blasting his way through the night she thought so peaceful.  With the first rays of the sun striking through the window reality set in her mind.  She moved out of her warmth to the cold floor and started her day.  They didn’t have much, living in a house that was provided for them, and pay that was nearly enough to squeeze out the needed provisions.  As she served a breakfast made with love and care He talked about trivial things.  Planning for their future mostly.  He was a planner.  A dreamer.  And he often discussed what he thought their future should be.  We will move out of the country by August, he said.  Oh?  She thought, she rarely replied with any discussion of her own.  Yes.  If we can get all the papers necessary, we can move by August and settle into our new home.  By August? Yes. Oh.  Is that ok?  Yes, she replied.  But really in her mind she was screaming as a child would scream for her lost blanket.  Her blanket being the comfort of the home she has always known and the friends surrounding her she has come to love.  And what of her dreams?  Her dreams that keep her hope rising like the sun everyday through that window break.  As the day continued on much like the moon shall appear in the sky no matter what protest may come, she tried to live her life in reality.  Boasting nothing of her own accomplishments or struggles.  She strived to life a simple life pleasing him and her obligations.  As she crossed the tea stained Oak floor and into the living room laden with soft ivory carpet, she wondered if she could ever be happy.  No, she thought.  Not like she desired to be, dreamed to be.  Yet, happy enough to pass day by day, just as that moon shall always come, so shall she force a smile onto her face and therefore into her heart.  And what about Him?  Is there anything to consider of his heart or of his mind?  He wears it on his denim sleeve.  His hands stained with grease after a hard days work.  He toils for his accomplishments.  He reaps the bread that he sows.  A hard working man with whom everyone is charmed by.  And as she crossed that tea stained oak floor one more time, she though, I do have the man of my dreams.  I do have what I cling to through the star laden night sky.

