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Pesadilla

4 min readMar 9, 2025

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A nightmare was my spark.

Zanzibar Street Market

I did not think I would ever see him again — his stone cold gaze, his shy smirk, his limbs covered in tattoos… but there he was. Moments before I was to get in the cab back to airport, on my last stroll through town, there he was.

I do not really believe in love, and if I do — it is always a temporary moment, a dream, a spell, and nothing more. I’m not against people who build a life of their own within their relationship and their family, I’m just not that person. I rarely believe any moment will last in my mind and in my thoughts and dreams forever…but I think this time might stick a little longer than most.

Although I am a sexually open person, I rarely indulge in full on vacation/temporary love affair. But I’m glad I did. It took my soul to the next level of enlightenment. I was released from my ties towards my previous beliefs of casual sex. I was taught that love can come in many forms and although scary and risky, casual sex is a new and wondrous adventure I am glad I have broken into. It’s not for the faint or anxious heart, and it most certainly changed me forever.

When he woke up, he asked me what I had dreamed about. Of course, being next to him all I could think about and dream about was having sex with him. It intoxicated me as my hormones took over my mind and my body. He immediately became erect and proclaimed “you are so lucky”.

Next, he closed his eyes and went into his mind, unlocking the deepest thoughts and dreams and recited his dream as if revisiting the exact moment: “I dreamed I was in a cave and it was so dark, I was trying to find the way out and I saw a light, and something lighting the way… but when I walked toward the light…maybe a castle, then someone told me I was going the wrong way.”

This image startled me as I have heard others described a similar dream. I immediately referred my thoughts to the Allegory of the Cave story. There were differences but there were also similarities, and I have heard this dream before. I listened to him continue to paint the image of the dream while connecting the dots to the philosopher’s tale. I could not help but connect to the path and realization of life, mind and the intrinsic value of our time here on earth.

No matter where we come from, or really where we are going — -it’s not the point. The point is the process, the journey, the experiences and lessons we have with the moment we are given with this life. I loved it, I loved him for having this dream, and I forever appreciated for being next to him, kissing his shoulder while he contemplated this dream of realization. I was in ecstasy.

I knew when I asked him to take me back to the hotel I most likely would never see his sweet, beautiful face again. On the moto ride back I held him softly and felt his distant but pure being and soul and heart — -hiding behind infinite layers of his own personal life and discovery which I pierced through for one moment in life. My heart was so full and satisfied with our moment, but I also wept to know I will never touch this soul again.

Nonetheless….somehow, on my last day, my last hour on the island, it happened. As I walked the African flea market for memorabilia and trinkets to take with me to remind of the most amazing adventure of my life in East Africa, there he was. Like a trick of the heat, walking down the street, I saw him… his cold stare, his relaxed demeanor, he smirked quietly in the distance. I waved my fingers in a shy gesture to acknowledge his presence but nothing more… worried he may not want to see me. But alas, he met my gaze and we met for another moment of pure perfection.

“How crazy, I meet Lauren Glasses while I buy some more glasses.” I beamed with enjoyment. I looked up to his eyes, and stood on my tiptoes to kiss his lips. He seemed taken back, but allowed me to kiss his face. A gesture of love no matter how short lived and unnecessary. “The cherries are back”, he said referencing my Pacha shirt from Ibiza.

“Always” I responded with one last kiss on his lips… lips like sugar. Sugar kisses.

Then I turned away, like the time he dropped me off at my hotel. No looking back, just moving forward. On my own journey, on my own quest. But never forgetting the moment I had with the kind soul, called the nightmare.
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@laurenglasses

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