I have a dream. I dream it too often, and yet I can never quite remember it in the morning. When I wake, I mark the date on the calendar with your initial. Nobody notices, or perhaps they are just unsurprised. I write you a letter, and don't send it. I see you in the street, and only say hello. I talk to your sister, and don't even mention your name. Every dream is another rehearsal, one step closer to the final revelation.
When I finally tell you about my dreams, you smile, and a new connection begins. This is better than in my dreams. Time has passed, and now we are grown-up. Now I know who I am. Now you are willing to find out. We can finally be friends. We spend an afternoon, curled up on your bed, saying all the words we never said and not once slipping beneath the sheets like we so often did before. And then I wake, alone and confused. As I write your initial on my calender, I realise that while I no longer mourn for our broken-down relationship, I will always mourn a friendship never begun.[for the prompt "I have a dream" at excuse_me___]