The darkness offered no comfort and as she struggled to control her tears, they overcame her and she slipped from the bed, (again) as she had so many nights. Clutching her robe, she crossed the room and left as quietly as she could. Closing the door behind herself. "Not that it matters," she muttered between sobs, "he could sleep through anything." Ane walked through the darkened house, (No stubbed toes. A good reason for keeping the place picked up.) but then she had had plenty of practice. In the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of chilled sherry. (My trusty sleeping friend. So dainty. I carefully pour myself a nice glass of cool amber liquid, put away the bottle, then down the whole, like the poorest wino in the streets.) With that thought, she drank the glass of wine, rinsed the glass and set it by the sink. (Leave just enough evidence.) Next, a trip to the bathroom to pick up the little medicine bottle. (I wonder what Doctor Mills would say if he knew what I really use these for?) She took two of the tiny pills and swallowed them without water. (Depression is, after all, a legitimate disorder these days. In an hour, I will be sleepy enough to stop crying and sleep...If only they didn't make me so lethargic during the day.) Hiccoughing now from the crying, she made her way to the sofa and lay down and await the result of her usual, self-prescribed remedy.

The dark ceiling was a viewing screen for her memories. Memories she would have preferred to leave unturned. Now a picture of David, his eyes glowing with desire, so familiar, once. (Oh, David. Will you ever look at me that way again?) She shook her head against the pillow to dispell the vision. The memories crowded in on her, a day in the sun together, his hands running over her, like a bow over violin strings, beautiful music; a night of passion before the fire, one side of their bodies glowing from its' warmth, the other chill from the winter night; a day at the lake, swimming, playing lover's games in the water.... One after another, the scenes played across the smooth screen of the ceiling. (I can't go on this way. I've tried to tell you, David. How many times have I tried?)

Ane ran the hours of the day through her mind scanning them for ways to prevent another repeat of this day. (I know I shouldn't have confronted him about those pictures. He will never understand why it bothers me so. If he could only stop having her on his mind. Doesn't he realize? I feel so very much pain whenever he brings up anything about her? Haven't I been generous enough? I have tried to give him everything he wants. I even let him (LET?) keep his mementoes of her. Keep them? I even helped him get them. What kind of fool does that make me? But he loves her. Or thinks he does. How could I withhold the thing that gives him such pleasure? That method of handling the situation hasn't helped, it hasn't gone away. I thought if I tried to be generous and less possessive, he would see how much he means to me, how much I want to make him happy. It didn't help. Now he thinks of me as even more possessive and demanding...anything for her, nothing for me...)

The wine began to take effect, and her thoughts flowed less abruptly now. She recalled how she had tried to entice him to make love. And how seemingly cold he had been when he said so certainly, "I'm just not interested." (How many times have I heard those words in the last year?) Her eyes closed slowly and she let her mind play its game with her. The monolog in her brain carried her half into another world.

(Someone could love me the way I need to be loved. It isn't so hard. I'm not ugly, or stupid or mean. I am talented in my own ways. I have so much love to offer. He doesn't want it. Surely there is someone who does.)

Her hand ran lightly across her half bared breast, the fingertips tracing a path across her heart. (David used to touch me this way.) Her hand seemed to float from place to place, touching the skin of her shoulders, trailing down her arms, even caressing the backs of her hands. She held her hands up in supplication toward the ceiling and beyond, "Hold me. Please, hold me. Love me. Dear God, there must be someone who wants me. There must be someone who will touch me willingly." The tears began to flow again as she drifted half in and half out of sleep.

The soft skin of her breasts tingled with the warmth of the light touch. Firmly, gently, the fingers traced the same path as her own had only moments earlier. Her mind registered the pleassure of the touch, but her body was too wrung out from the tears to sort through what was real and what was the dream she had entered. The dream became her reality.

Warm lips kissed her shoulders and arms. One hand stroked her hair, gently combing through it, the other cupped one breast gently. Ane stirred in the dream and reached out with her arms wide to embrace and welcome. The tender lips settled upon hers and stirred her to the roots of her soul. A vague uneasiness passed through her, and was dismissed by her now langorous senses. She felt her body lifted and cradled by strong arms. A sense of safety washed through her, and she gave herself over entirely to the dream.

She lay upon a cloud of scented air and quiet air streams rocked her gently. The loving hands seemed to know her every need. There was no abruptness, no rushing away, no one, two, three.... The lips tasted every part of her skin. There was no mechanical movement. It was so easy. The sure hands left no area untouched. All her nerve endings cried out with joy. The soul of her wept in its' happiness. Here was someone who knew, knew how the hunger raged inside her. Knew how very much she needed to be touched with love. There was no demand in the touch. Indeed, the usual "button pushing" touches were never used. As if these tender hands and lips knew how much she needed just to be loved. The sense of well-being lasted through the night.

She suddenly became aware of movement around her, and it brought her quickly to earth. She opened her eyes to the dim light of morning and saw David sitting across from her, tying his boots. (How like him to think that the world is all new, and that last night carried no sad memories into the light of day.)

"Good morning," he said, never looking up from his laces, "like sleeping on the couch?"

"I thought it would keep me from disturbing you. It must have worked, you seem to have slept well." Ane sat up, and watched him carefully for some sign that he might remember what had happened between them only hours earlier. Nothing. Only that same determination not to share his thoughts. He stood and went to the kitchen. She could hear him preparing his cereal. Another sore point. He often brought up that she didn't get his breakfast for him. Who could make breakfast, or even be civil after a night filled with tears, wine and drugged sleep? The lethargy of the sleep still on her, Ane walked slowly to the bedroom and lay on her side of the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and closing her eyes. She struggled to remember the dream. (If I go back to sleep, maybe I will dream it again?) Sleep did overtake her, but the dream did not return. She woke hours later, the house still, and she knew she was halfway through another day. (Another chance), she thought.

The effects of the pills she had taken so late in the night still hung onto her at four in the afternoon. Ane had struggled with it to force herself to do her duties. The house was clean, dinner started, and she waited hopefully for David to get home. He didn't show up these days as promptly as he used to do. But then, nothing about him seemed even close to the same as before. He got home a few minutes after four and gave her the usual, expected kiss, then sat down on the couch to watch TV until dinner time. (It's beginning already.) And she steeled herself for the evening.

(What makes a woman hold on when it is, oh, so clear that there is no hope.) Perhaps it was pride, or a refusal to admit failure. Or perhaps, it was the memory of all the good times they had had together. Whatever the reason, Ane held on.(There is always the hope that the love will surface again. That David would want her again.) The frustration, she knew, was now built up so high, that it could take the rest of her life to stop the pain and heal the scars.

After dinner, as Ane cleared up the dishes, she felt the warmth of the dream from the night before. (So real) It seemed she could almost feel hands upon her now. A certain warmth encircled her waist as she did the dishes. Almost as if someone had come up behind her and clasped her waist to hug her. But there was only the feeling, no one was hugging her. (It felt so good)

"I learned my lesson this time," she said to herself, as she folded the last of the towels. "I won't even expect him to kiss me, then I won't be disappointed." Ane took a warm shower and put on her softest, silkiest nightgown. Sleep took her quickly, (an after effect of the tearful night and little sleep)

Later, she felt the bed shift a little. (David has come to bed at last.) She rolled toward him in her sleep. (Perhaps he won't turn me away, this time.) Familiar hands stroked her silken hip. No grabbing. Long, tender, gliding strokes along her thigh and hip, resting momentarily in the slope of her waist. Uncertain, she lay her own hand on his side.. The skin felt warm, strong and smooth. She rolled against his chest and felt his arms tighten around her. (Now, I know I'm dreaming) Bemused, she lay cradled against the stiff, wirey hair on his chest. (Something doesn't feel the same) she thought, but gave herself to the good feeling of being held. Her mind caught softly spoken words of love and reassurance. The hand on her waist tightened and he pulled her close.

She dreamed again of the warm hands roaming over her body and woke with a fresh and energetic feeling. (I haven't felt this way in a long time.) David's side of the bed was untouched. Ane got up quickly, glancing at the clock, she knew no one had set it. Luckily, there was still time for David to make it to work. She found him lying on the couch, still dressed in the clothes from the day before. "Don't you think you should be getting ready for work? Surely you plan to change clothes?)

"Must have fallen asleep. Sorry. Oh, it is late. Could you fix my lunch? I'll really have to hurry!" The next few minutes were hectic, but David made it to work on time. Only then, did Ane remember, she had had the dream again. (And it felt so good) "A person could get addicted to that kind of dreams," she said to the day around her.

Ane turned on some music to work by, and soon found herself dancing with the broom and hugging pillows as she went through the chores. The house felt warm and friendly. (I really need to get out when I start thinking of a house as having a personality. Today would be a good day for grocery shopping. Maybe the Mall, too.) With that thought, she picked up her car keys and left her friendly house behind. It was almost five when she got home. David was in his usual position on the sofa, in front of the TV.

"What's for supper? I didn't see anything in the kitchen, so I made myself a sandwich." He got up to help carry in the bags of groceries, and stayed long enough to check them for "goodies", then put his arm over her shoulder, leaning for a kiss.

(It was almost like kissing a post, from lack of warmth. He didn't even enjoy it. Why do I even want him to try it, when it is always so cold. Why do I insist on being kissed when I know he wishes he could avoid it altogether? Maybe that is the reason. Why do I keep on keeping on when he says he loves me, but every movement, every look, ever glance tells me the opposite?) Then, with a sheepish smile, he went back to his TV. Ane just stood in the center of the kitchen with the weight of the world on her shoulders, then, stiffening, she held her head up and started supper. The room seemed empty. (Is this the same house that felt so warm and friendly earlier today?)

After supper, Ane sat a while in the chair opposite the sofa. David never even looked in her direction. She finally gave up and went to do the dishes. Later, she ran a deep tub of bubbles and turned the lights in the bathroom down. She lit small candles and set them in the bedroom, then, leaving the door ajar, she got into the tub and leaned back, resting her head on a rolled towel. The musky scent of the water and bubbles, and the soft lights relaxed her and she closed her eyes to savour the moments. (I remember nights we shared this tub, and David would stroke my skin under the water. How delightfully sensual that felt. Mmmmm, so long ago.) The water grew cool as Ane sat remembering past joys, coming out of her reverie, she towelled dry. (I had hoped you would join me, David) She slipped on her gown and drained the tub, then went into the living room to see what he was doing. (Lying on his back on the sofa. Asleep?) "David... Oh, I thought maybe you had gone to sleep."

"No. This is a good movie. Want to sit and watch it?"

"That's the best offer I've had all day. She sat next to him and he put his arm over her shoulder, but the sofa sits funny, and the angle of his arm grew uncomfortable, so she held his hand as they watched the rest of the program. By the end, David was drowsing.

"Guess I'd better get to bed...got an early day tomorrow. I have to be there an hour earlier to get a jump on the weather." He got up and left the room so abruptly that he missed the sharp pain which come to her eyes. (He never notices me, or thinks of what I might want.....No that's not fair...He works hard and needs all the rest he can get. He didn't mean this to happen to us, and he doesn't TRY to hurt me. It just seems to happen.

She followed him, turning off lights and the television as she went. He was already in bed. (no shower. Well like he said, he isn't visibly dirty or smelly, so it's a waste. Can't he understand that it isn't the clean or unclean, it's the gift of his body to me. You don't give people soiled gifts. Well, he isn't giving me gifts, anyway. Maybe this is another way he has of telling me to stay away. There has been too much said, and too much pain. Will it ever go away?)

"Not saying goodnight these days?" She leaned over his face. He raised his eyelids slowly and with half a frown met her lips with his, then fell back onto the pillow. (That's all? After waiting for three days and three long empty nights. That's all? I should be used to it by now. If I could just stop wanting him. It is clear that he doesn't want me. The argument could go on all night. One half of me sympathizes with him and pities him for his tiredness and for the knowledge of his love for her; the other half wants to rage and scream "It's not fair!" Well this isn't getting me anywhere. This is getting to be a habit. I shouldn't do it so often.

She blew out the candles and traced her familiar path to the kitchen, the refrigerator, then to the bathroom, then to the sofa. (I wish I could lay beside him in the bed. I know it would only cause trouble. If I wake him he will either be contrite and force himself to make love to me, or will be angry and leave. If I lay there I will end up in tears again. At least this way it is only me who hurts.)

Ane's wine was slow to take hold, or so it seemed, but she finally fell into a welcome sleep, clutching a small pillow to her chest. After a while, a warm feeling embraced her. She felt cuddled in strong arms, a warm, firm body pressed against her back as the arms continued to hold her close. Warm breath caressed the nape of her neck and the fine hairs moved in the breeze of it. A leg crept slightly between hers and she felt safe and good. The night passed its course and dawn was breaking when she stirred on the sofa. The air was cool, but she still felt a gentle warmth across her breasts and legs, and against the chill it seemed odd. She sat up uncertainly and looked around the room as if looking for someone, something out of place. The feeling that she was not alone persisted even as the sun rose higher in the sky. The alarm rang in the bedroom.

Ane pulled her robe over her gown and went to the kitchen. (At least this morning I will get his breakfast for him. I haven't felt this rested in a long time.) Water was running in the bathroom as she sliced sausage. By the time she had it in the skillet, David was rummaging in the refrigerator. "I already started breakfast. Sausage and toast," she said hopefully.

"I'm not very hungry. Think I'll just have juice. Gotta run. I might be late for supper. Don't hold it for me."

"What else would I do? I would rather eat with you, I'll wait."

"It might be pretty late, seven or eight." he said as he kissed her quickly and left, not waiting for an answer.

"David," she ran to the door, "just once more...with feeling, please."

"I'm already running late, oh..." he walked quickly back from his truck and put his arms around her. This kiss was a bit more firm, if not warm, at least it left her lips feeling kissed. He was gone a moment later and the emptiness began to settle in on her. Closing the door, she looked around the room, then sat down in her chair to stare at the walls. "The sausage!" She ran to the kitchen to rescue the well done patties from the pan. (Lucky for me, I like them well done. Have to get hold of myself, lately, I'd forget my head if it weren't attached.) She walked aimlessly through the house. (Nothing really needs doing. I should just go back to work. Everyone says I should, even David. But then, when I'm working the only thing he can say is "Quit. Stay home and take care of me." It's like a tug of war...get a job...quit the job....get a job....When the kids are home, at least there is more life in the house. But, still, I'm glad Deb took them for the month. I guess I do need the quiet and time to sort it all out.)

It WAS late when David came home. After eleven. Ane was asleep on the bed with a little smile upon her lips. David took his pillow and went to the sofa rather than risk waking her.

Ane lay on her cloud of warm air. Tender words were flowing into her head and heart. Words no one could hear, but words which nourished her starving heart. She turned on the bed, still fast in her dream. Gentle arms held her, and warm lips played across her face. The kisses trailed down her neck and across the swell of her breast. She shivered in delight. Her gown melted away from her body and she felt the firm smooth skin of her lover beneath her hand. Not wanting to break the spell of the moment, she lay still and breathed in the smell of him, warm, sweet and musky. The skin under her fingertips was firm and tight as she tentatively stroked it. Her left breast was warm where a hand lay on it. Kisses rained upon her throat, and a hand, the one from her breast, ran down her side, settling on her stomach for a moment, then resting on her thigh. (This is too delicious. I won't wake this time. I want to feel this way for as long as I can.) The hand came back up the same path it had followed down her side, then the fingers enterlaced with hers and she felt a weight leaning across the left side of her body. She felt soft, silky hair against her arm as the head settled into the hollow of her shoulder. The hand cupped her breast again, softly pressing against the soft flesh. (I must have more. This is all I have waited for and prayed for. Please, don't let it stop here.) The head raised and the lips pressed against hers once more. This time with a firmness that melted the stone which lived in the pit of her stomach. She melted against the passion that grew in the kiss. Her arms raised and encircled his shoulder and waist, and she returned his kiss with fire. Her hands tangled in his hair...(longer than it should be?) She pulled his waist toward her, and he slid across her, resting there, still and warm. Her hands roamed across his back.

He turned onto his side, pulling her with him and stroking her softly with his hands as he kissed her. Her body grew warm with an impossibly white hot fire .... the kind of fire which does not devour, but kindles, seemed to fill her. Every fiber of her reached out to embrace him. He filled her with such a sense of rightness. (It is as if I know this feeling, but I can't know it. I remember this oneness, this melding of souls. . . It's HIM! It has been so long. Do I dare to try to see him? Talk to him?)

"I came because you needed me." The words were just there. No sound came forth in the quiet night air. "I have missed you, too. You can look at me. I have only a little time, but while it lasts, you can see me, just as I know your thoughts and you know mine. We can not be truly parted. We may be in separate worlds, but we are forever one in soul." Ane opened her eyes slowly, fearfully, lest she end the dream and loose him forever. Deep brown eyes looked into hers. The depth and richness in them was so familiar. A sob escaped the lips of the sleeping woman, but on a cloud of light, it was a cry of joy.

"You have been so alone. It has been more than you expected, I think. David is not ready to continue his growth. He is taking a "vacation". You have already realized the rest. His love for the other woman. The duality of his love for you and for her. His confusion and your pain. All necessary for the growth of you both. He isn't dealing well with the loss of her. he doesn't want to let go of her, but it is necessary and he is only postponing the inevitable. They can not be together here. Just as you and I cannot be together here. We have only these few moments."

"Will I remember? When I awake, will I remember that I have been here with you?"

"Only in your heart. There is that comfort. Your heart will know that I have been with you, and that there will be a time for us again. You already knew that, that is how you have held on for so long."

"Yes. I knew. I knew somewhere, somehow, I would be loved as I needed to be loved. But I was so desolate. How . . . How could you be here?"

"You know that, too. Try to remember."

"Because we are so attuned to each other? That's it. We really can't be separated, can we?"

"I am always with you, and you are always with me. Just as we are one with Creation. We still have many roads to travel and much to learn before we are fulfilled. We are one in every way. this body is only to give you the pleasure and comfort you need in this crisis of this life. It is a clumsy way of sharing and an imperfect way of communicating, but it will serve."

"This is the only visit we may share in this lifetime. The hours are passing quickly. How shall we spend them?"

"As you said, it is an imperfect way, but it is the way my being understands best here. Until we are perfectly one, I would have these hours in your physical arms and feel the comforts of your love for me and mine for you. Is that wrong? Should I not want that sharing?"

"That is the sharing you seek with David, also. He is able to share with you, but is still crippled by his love and the loss he feels. Time will not erase, but enhance his loss, for it is important that they experience fully this sense of loss. Our sharing with one another will always bring satisfaction such as only those who are truly one may enjoy. The feelings of this body tell me not to deny us this moment of joy, it is a special gift."

He bent his head to her face and kissed her lips with a consuming passion which burst upon the horizon of their minds like worlds in creation.

The sleeping woman lay on her side, curled into herself. Her breathing was quiet and she lay so still a watcher would have wondered if she still lived. On a cloud of light, the eternal lovers held one another and shared the richness of their love with every fiber in and of them. Dawn approached, and he spoke once more. "Remember, I am forever with you. We can never be truly separated. There is merely a curtain falling between us. This is not a dream. I am really with you. Do not allow your temper and hunger hold you back. Be all you are meant to be. It will free both you and David. You knew about the trials when you started this life. Finish the task, learn and grow, and we will be together again sooner than you now think. I love you. You are one with me and I am one with you. There is nothing greater than love, no power stronger. We will be one forever; we will never be alone. I LOVE YOU."

"I don't want you to go."

"You know I must."

"Yes. But I want to be able to see you and touch you. I will try to remember. The night went too quickly."

"Hours are nothing in eternity. We have all of that before us."

"You're right. I know it. This body is weak and gets so lonely. Thank you for coming to me. And thanks to our Creator." She touched her finger to his lips. "You have given me renewed hope."

"I must go now." He kissed her with tender warmth, and when she opened her eyes, she saw only the gray dawn light creeping across the ceiling.

"I know, my love. Thank you." she said to the still morning air. Ane lay quiet on the bed a few moments longer, then got up and went into the kitchen to try again to rebuild the damaged parts of her marriage. A hard task, but she loved David and in his way, he loved her. One more time, each day, one step, one stone at a time. (We will rebuild and renew the marriage. Even if it takes a thousand nights alone, together with David. It is my life, and only I can do it.) As the minutes passed, her memory of the night dimmed until there was but a faint glow warming and giving her strength. Somewhere, someday, someone would return love in kind to her, and together they would visit worlds unknown and still undreamed on clouds of light.