Beyond the Fence

Shared Dream

I woke up with my arms reaching towards the ceiling, hands opening and closing trying to get a strong grip around his neck. My sheets were soaking wet, once again, with tears and sweat. I got out of bed, stripped the sheets, threw them in the laundry, and stepped into the shower. I had no idea what the time was and at that time, I couldn't care less.

After I stepped out of the shower and began to dry off, I looked at the clock on my nightstand. It was 1:15 in the morning and I knew I needed to try and sleep a little longer. I remade my bed, moved the bedding from the washing machine to the dryer, and crawled back into bed. I looked into the darkness and thought about the nightmare, Cassy, and Chrissy. The dream rattled me a lot more than I would care to admit, however, in my walk to wellness, I knew it was okay to admit that I was shaken by the dream.

I realized I was still rattled by the dream when I jumped due to the text notification on my phone.

The message was from Chrissy.

"Lee, are you awake," she wrote, "If you are, can I come over and see you for a few minutes?"

"Are you okay," I asked, "Come on over. I'm awake."

I got off of the bed, put on a pair of mesh shorts, and unlocked the patio door for Chrissy. As she approached the door, I could see that she had been crying. I quickly opened the door, held out my arms, pulled her to me, and held her as she started crying again.

"Honey," I said softly, "are you okay? Are you hurt?"

She continued to cry as I led her into the living room and directed her to the couch. I sat next to her as she laid her head on my lap and began sobbing. I stroked her hair and rubbed her back as her crying began to abate. Knowing there are times someone needs a release, to be listened to, or to sit in total silence, I waited quietly and tried to comfort her with my presence.

She took some deep breaths, wiped her eyes, and sat up.

"I feel like a little baby," she groaned, "I'm sorry Lee."

"You are not a little baby," I said as I held her hand in mine, "No apologies. Would you like to talk about it?"

"I will talk about it," she said, "but I don't want to scare you away."

I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it gently.

"Look at me," I said softly, "Please, look at me."

She shifted her body so she could face me and looked into my eyes.

"I do not scare," I said softly, yet firmly, "I'm not going to give you the, I'm so macho, firefighter, I walk into the jaws of death talk a lot of narcissists enjoy using, but, I do not scare. There are times, I will admit, that I get afraid, but, this is not one of those times. Talk to me, please, tell me what is wrong."

She looked at me and took a few more deep breaths. She had closed her eyes, looked away after she opened them, then focused on my face.

"There are two things," she began, "I think the first one led to the second, but I'm not sure how. After you cleaned off my hand and arm earlier, you turned to put on your shorts. Without really thinking, I had reached up with my other hand and felt where you, um, where you, released yourself on my chest. And, then, um, I rubbed myself again with it on my fingers."

She began to tear up again and tried to pull her hand away. I was confused at her show of emotion and didn't know how to ask why she was so troubled. Was she feeling guilt over what we did? Did she think I would think she was dirty for doing what she did? I was honestly clueless. So, I sat and waited for her to explain.