You want me to tell you of a whirlwind romance, that he swept me off my feet, but it didn't happen that way. The only place I ever saw him again was in my dreams. I never knew his name, who he was, what he was... but I knew him. He was my brother, my father, my lover, and yet none of these. In dreams, I ran to him. He held me, kissed me, loved me, with a fire I've never felt before or since. Nights left me exhausted, as if every moment, every caress, every new entanglement of limbs and bodies was as real as I am. And his eyes, his eyes... for all the ecstasy I felt in his arms, it never compared to the way I drowned in his eyes.

Even when I was awake, I drowned in his eyes. Every idle moment, I fell into those pools of color... what color... I wish I could remember. I felt infinity there, in his eyes, a million lifetimes, the past, the future, forever. An inifinity that was comforting, within him, but frightening, because I was alone. Even within him, I could never find him, never know him, as I lost myself to him.

It's only over the last few days that I've noticed how pale and ill I am - how much more I need to sleep. And when I sleep, he is there - and I drown again. I know now that I'm dying. Am I slipping away into my dreams, or into him? I don't know. But I know that tonight, when I drown, it will be the last time. I will finally be with him, be within him, forever. And maybe... just maybe... I'll finally see the color of his eyes.

By E. Lynn Schuman, 1996