She quickly glanced at the large swelling-red scar on my arm. I would either hum or sing some R&B and found pleasure in doing so. The nicely trimmed t...in mustache smirk on my face told her all she needed to know as to why I did it. So, I quietly left her to her favorite show, "Top Model"; and favorite treat. I went in the living room, entangled the soft, warm fur of the throw rug in between my just pedicured bare toes; as I felt the inviting heat from the crackling logs in the fireplace. I. Lucid dreaming, I think they call it. But he isn’t there. I realize that I don’t even know his name. There is so much I don’t know about him. God, am I going crazy? It’s just a dream. Tomorrow I’ll make an appointment with a therapist. And then he’s there. Sitting in front of me like he’s always been there. “I’m so glad you made it! So, where should we go? Paris? Italy? Vermont? St. Lucia? Hell, the Garden of Eden if we want.” “Too much history.” We laugh the easy laugh of old friends. “Do you. More

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