Let Go

I

The first light of day streaming through my windows, sending gentle beams on my face was the first thing I felt before I was fully awake.

It's another day, another usual day of the same.

Too much of the same sentiments, different atmosphere, but same routine. I was starting to forget when it all started. I knew what awaited behind my closed eyes—reality.

No. I didn't want to deal with it. Not yet. Not after an amazing dream of being with a woman, making love to her not just once or twice, but several times and in several sensational ways.

I kept my eyes shut so I could replay it without distractions. The thought of her sent ripple warmth throughout my body, and I couldn't help the smile that broke out on my face.

The smell of croissants, fruit jams, and coffee assaulted my senses. I heard my tummy growl loudly at the aroma that registered.

But no, I didn't want it to be over just yet. I tried to put off getting up for a few moments more. I pulled my duvet over my face, concentrating so I could go back to sleep, and dream again.

Wait. Something momentarily spoiled my train of thoughts; I couldn't recall the face of the woman in my dream.

I had always felt that something's missing, like I was longing for something—it was getting out of hand and stressing me out—causing a part of my brain to help itself satisfy my wishful urges through dreams. I'd been having visions of a tall, tanned woman every night since God knows when, but this one's eerily different—so vivid I could still feel her warmth.

I turned over, lay flat on my stomach, and grabbed the pillow next to me, then I buried my face in it. It smelled so fine, like fresh laundry and milk & honey from my new shampoo. I breathed in the scent of amber vanilla and musk. It's irresistible. Hold up. It wasn't my perfume yet it's familiar enough to soothe me and take me to an awfully familiar time and memories I fully remember.

My nose scrunched up when the stench of cigarette smoke and liquor wafted through my nostrils.

This isn't right.

I switched to using Relx a long time ago. I'd been to the bar every night for the week, but I didn't remember ever having any of my pillows reeked of cigarette smoke.

I aggressively opened my eyes and almost cursed when I did so; it got me sliding from the world of a dream into reality. The rays of bright sunlight stabbed my eyes and a twinge shot through my temples, making me squint; and only seconds later, the stabbing transformed into an equally unpleasant, painful throbbing.

No matter what I'd done the night before, one thing was certain: I'd gone overboard and was now paying for it—with a massive headache and ... memory loss?

Last night.

What happened last night?

I took my time lifting my eyelids, much more carefully, blinking and staring into the daylight that fell through the open windows. The events of last night slowly filtered back into my head.

Oh, that's right! Of course, I knew where I was last night. But I couldn't recall driving myself home. I remembered drinking at the bar, but no, I couldn't remember anything that happened after that.

I turned to my side and saw the scented candles that I bought yesterday. Good. I was definitely in my room. I held the pillow close to my body while I was still wrapped in my blanket. I curled up as I felt the blast of cool air coming from the AC hit me. Weird. I never changed the temperature of my AC.

My body ached. I stretched out then sat up. It wasn't until the covers glided down into my lap—revealing my bare body—that my heartbeat began accelerating. I unconsciously reached up and fiddled with the mini heart-shaped pendant under the thin gold chain hanging around my neck.