So, again, I didn’t technically cheat.
But my subconscious did.
I had a dream where I fell in love with a man who lived ten minutes away. That’s it. No sex. Just proximity and chemistry and something I can only describe as cheating emotionally in my dreams. Some subconscious slut behaviour.
It wasn’t some vague, blurry dream either. It was vivid. We had no history. We did have banter. We had deep eye contact. He wasn’t even crazy hot. Just, emotionally available in a way that made me feel seen. We weren’t doing anything wild either, just lying around, playing, talking like we’d known each other forever. That kind of cosy intimacy you only get in dreams or specific indie movies with good lighting.
And the worst part? I woke up in full mourning. With a heavy heart and some disoriented grief. Meanwhile, my actual boyfriend is sleeping peacefully. Oblivious, innocent and breathing.
I spent the morning feeling like I’d lost something real, you know that weird dream grief that clings to you for a moment even though none of it actually happened. Yeah, okay, he exists. But your brain modded him like a Sims character and gave him all the traits you wish real men had. Of course you woke up sad.
No, I didn’t tell my boyfriend. I didn’t feel like starting our day with, “Hey I emotionally cheated on you with a man who lives slightly closer to my parents and smells like safety who gave me the kind of hugs where I get lifted up and spun around like a Disney princess.”
Again, no sex. Just hugs that make you feel small, safe, and entirely claimed. And too much comfort in the wrong arms. And that feeling like my dream self was at home with him.
Which is somehow worse?
So what now? I pretend it meant nothing and secretly hope I see him again around the corner, or in my next dream.
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