Why do I still dream about you? Sixteen years since we touched, and yet you still visit me when I close my eyes. You come to me, not as you were then, but as I perceive you must be today. You don't push me away, as I'd expect, but display a non-judgemental attitude with a smile. I seem to remember apologizing at times. I'd expect harsher treatment from you, but you always forgive.

You married a minister, and I'd wager you've got at least one child. The last time I saw you in the flesh, you didn't look so good. Last night, though, you were an angel.

Although I've had longer and deeper relationships, I seldom dream about the others. Neither of my ex-wives haunt me, which suits me fine. Others to whom I've sworn my undying love have faded from my reality. Not you.

It's not that I think about you during my waking hours. I rarely do. Somewhere between and underneath my thoughts and words, however, your image hides. Is this guilt, or a deep and unresolved love that will continue until addressed?

The feeling in last night's dream wasn't at all reminiscent of those days. Last night I viewed you as a sage, yet in reality you were a naive schoolgirl. Regrets, I have plenty, but not only due to you. Why do you persist when none of the others do? Do I haunt your dreams? Somehow I doubt it.