Sweet Dreams

I had a dream about Asian boi. It was kind of intense.

In my dream, we weren't in a place like where I work or schooled. Instead, the place was really urban. Like really urban--in a not so hot way. It had, as one of my siblings likes to say, personality. It was somewhere in the hood. There was graffiti.

I was in my apartment or room, and someone was coming over. I think it was actually a group of people. They came in and we were all chatting. It totally reminded me of the vibe I get whenever I go to any type of LGBT event--everyone is non-mainstream, and I hate to write, deviant from convention.

I don't know how this happened, but there was this tall Asian there. I couldn't immediately tell if it was a boi or a girl. The confusion was due to the fact that he was wearing long hair and it sort of covered his face. His features were pretty either for a guy or a girl. He also wore clothes that didn't make his gender clear. He was wearing blue jeans and a white tee. That should've made it clear on most people, except that Asians can often have similar body types across sex.

Asian boi is phenomenally built and shaped--exceptionally so. However, he can wear certain tops that seriously obfuscate all of these qualities--it boggles my mind really, because under most circumstances he cannot.

In the dream, this Asian person approached me, came to stand directly in front of me, started talking to me, and then I think I said something wrong, or missed something, and this Asian quickly began walking away. I suddenly realized that it was actually AB. I think he had hinted at it, and I had dismissed his hint with derisive laughter.

When I came to the realization that he was indeed AB, I instantly reached out with my arm to motion him back and called out to him. He turned to look at me, and as he twisted his shoulder, the short sleave of his tee rode up, and I could see all the musclature that is so unique to him. His massive and perfectly built shoulders, his incredibly smooth and slightly tanned skin, and the muscle fibers that run throughout his delts, lower pecs, and tie into rib cage. So, I couldn't see that very last part, but his shoulder twisting made me realize--it was him without a doubt.

I ran and stood in front of him, apologizing and calling him by his name. He smiled, obnoxiously and smugly. He knew he had me, as he always knew he did.

I melted because his new 'look' so very much emphasized all that was sexy about his face. His eyes and high cheek bones. The ultra smooth skin and the pretty smile. I couldn't get over it.

I also was reeling from the shock of seeing him dressed in a counter culture sort of way--like an urban hippie or hipster. He wore a bag diagonally across his chest, he sported tats, and the clothes were not as clean cut, pressed, or as perfectly conventionally worn as his usual outfits in real life.

I asked him to come back later, when everyone was gone. He smiled--smugly--and agreed. It was the next day or later, but it was brighter in my dream.

He arrived, I let him in, and we start talking. I can't remember exactly about what. I think it was about us, and how things used to be, at the gym. We were each attempting to recast the past according to his advantage. He might have been out, or I might have understood that already at this point in the dream. I got frustrated by our games and attempts to one each other in our accounts of how things used to be back at the old university gym. So I reached up to his neck, and pulled him hard into a kiss. He pulled away a bit initially, but then I started to massage his lips and tongue with my own tongue and I twisted my neck to make the moves more effective. His resistance ceased, and he started to kiss me too. I knew he wanted me, and I knew that we were just playing games. I knew that after the initial shock he would be into this, and finally, we would get down to business.

Our hands went down to our torsos and midsections, and I led him to a couch. I smiled at him, hoping hard that we would finally get butt-naked with each other. He smiled back at me as if knew what I was thinking.

There was a ring--either a buzzer at the door or a phone.

I picked up. The call demanded my immediate attention. I went outside for a moment to speak to someone. It was taking longer than I expected.

I knew I had left Asian boi in the room all primed and ready to go.

I then decided to feel self-important about this whole scenario, so I didn't make my best effort to cut off the conversation with this other person.

Finally, I realized that by any standard I had killed the mood and taken too long. So I told the person I had to go right away and got back only in time to see Asian boi walking out of my door. I followed him out, pleading with him to forgive me and to come back. He smiled at me smugly and knowingly and refused.

He said, "Maybe some other time," smiled, and walked away into a bright but grey day. I was so angry and sad, most likely at and with myself.