I was at a party. It was a large party, partly indoors and partly outdoors. I was uneasy, uncomfortable. There were a couple of different women there that I was trying to avoid, or trying to avoid their awareness of each other. I couldn’t say who they were but I could feel their presence. I was worried I’d be found out, that there would be a huge scene here. I was anxious and depressed.
I was outside in the patio area. It was a large open space. The floor was made of large ornate cement tiles, small groups of people were socializing. I felt exposed, like the things I feared might come get me, emerging from the more closely packed groups of people clustered under the summer awnings that trimmed the house.
Still, I stood there, not sure what to do, where to go.
Then she came upon me so fast I had no time to react. She was leaning on me, pressing the side of her body against me, then her back, like she was rolling around me. I knew who it was, she was familiar to me, comfortable. It was Jennifer Aniston. Of all the women I was worried about, she wasn’t one of them. But here she was.
She rolled around me, touched me, caressed me, and finally settled into me, facing me, holding me. We danced a little together. We were the same height. I looked directly into her face. It was a comfortable place, a known place. I felt a little relaxed, but at the same time I realized this was a game-ending event. If any of the other women in my life saw this, I’d be done, I’d be ruined. I was pretty certain they were at this party. I felt the seconds ticking by, the bomb about to go off, as this coupling of myself and Jennifer would ripple throughout the party.
Still, I couldn’t ignore the comfort. I couldn’t deny how surprised I was by the joy of her. She was pressing into me, all of her body touching me, warming me in this comforting familiar sensation. I was undone in that moment. I had a series of thoughts race through my mind. The most startling among them, “Why not Jennifer Aniston? Why have I fought this for so long? This woman loves me, she lights up with joy when we touch, she comforts me. I love her.”
At that moment there was a release for me, a letting go.
I closed my eyes and melted into what she wanted. I knew that enough time had passed and the party was now surely alight with talk of our coupling, this secret was no longer a secret. I gave into that feeling, it washed over me, a tipping point.
She smiled, her jagged bangs hanging over her face. It was a smart sexy grin full of the knowing of what she had done, the pleasure of her own happiness. She kissed me. She kissed me again, and I was swept up in the touch of her lips, the infrequent small contact with her tongue, the wet kisses that traced the shape of my own lips. Her mouth tasted like sweet things I love. Her breasts pushed up against me. She pulled on me, held me, owned me. For a moment, I forgot the party around us, completely lost in the touch of her mouth on mine.
I could not, for the life of me, figure out why I would not affix my life to this woman. Why had I fought against this? Why had I created all the complexity beyond this love?
I couldn’t answer that. In that moment, with the warmth of her face radiating on mine, her kisses draining me, her arms searching me for a more secure hold, I surrendered to the obvious answer. I let go of everything else in this world and fell into the most beautiful ending of me—which was oddly, perfectly, Jennifer Aniston.
*Disclaimer, I don’t know Jennifer Aniston or have any connections to her. I have no romantic feelings for her. Her appearance in my dream seems completely random.