Jews -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
These dreams were the one
luxury of my life, being, as they were, the one means of escape from my
life; reversing, as they did, the real truth of my life. Every night,
when I lay down to sleep, I would think to myself:
“'Perhaps to-night I shall dream of her. She will come to me in my
dream.' These dreams always annihilated the recent past, and carried me
back to our happy days. You were mine again, with me again. All was as
it had been. My lost treasure was for a brief space restored to me. The
great joy that I experienced in these dreams, I can not describe. It
was boundless, unspeakable. Of course, to wake up in the morning,
and realize that it had only been a dream, was hard. To wake up, and
look around me, and see the walls of mv bedroom, the view from my
window, and breathe the air, and listen to the sounds, of the morning,
all quite unchanged, just as they had used to be in the old time; and
then to think how completely all the rest was changed--changed beyond
possibility of retrieval--you and your love lost to me forever--that was
hard enough. It was like a famished man dreaming of food, and waking up
to find a stone in his hand. And yet--and yet, so great was the rapture
of them, while they lasted, my dreams were worth purchasing at almost
any price; certainly, at the price of the pain of waking. To see you,
to speak to you, to touch you; to be spoken to, and touched, by you;
to hold your little, soft, warm hand in mine, to hear the music of
your laughter, to breath the fragrance that the air caught from your
presence, to gaze into the depths of your eyes, even though in a
dream--it was better than nothing, wasn't it? Better than never,
dreaming or waking, to see you at all. So, as I say, every night I would
hope to dream of you--notwithstanding the thought that perhaps I had no
right to dream of you, that you perhaps would begrudge me the possession
of you, even in my dreams; but, as I say, my hope was rewarded very
seldom--not oftener than once in every six or eight weeks. This was
strange, seeing that you absorbed my mind constantly, all day long,
every day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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