The One I Keep Waiting For: A Love That Protects Without Possessing

I had a dream about him last night.

Not him exactly, but the love I’ve been craving for as long as I can remember the ache of it —

the kind I can feel in my bones before I even see his face.

We were back in the dream.

Same long dream.

Same dream that I’ve been writing about.

In the dream, the light was warm, almost alive, and I swear I could hear metal ringing on the other side.

He came up behind me —

close enough that I could feel the heat from him before I heard his voice.

Don’t be afraid,

he said.

We didn’t touch.

Not yet.

Just walked side-by-side like we’d done it a hundred times before.

He kept scanning the corners, checking everything around us like it was second nature.

That’s what made me feel safe —

not what he said, but what he did without thinking.

We passed the chapel.

He glanced at me and asked,

What do you want?

It was one of those moments where the real answer is too long for words.

But I still told him the truth.

Home.

He didn’t ask where that was.

He just nodded like he already knew.

The dream jumped and suddenly it was Valentine’s Day.

Flowers everywhere.

In my car — a single black rose.

He saw it before I touched it.

His shoulder brushed mine.

Still no hand holding.

Still no kiss.

Just that slow, steady build.

Then it changed again.

We were in some kitchen I’d never been in, but somehow it felt like it belonged to us.

A lamp glowed in the corner, the whole house quiet.

He leaned against the counter, watching me like he was trying to memorize me.

I’m not perfect,

he said.

I’m weather.

I don’t need perfect,

I told him.

I just need shelter that breathes.

His eyes softened, but he didn’t move toward me yet.

The dream was taking its time.

Next thing I knew, we were at my friend’s house.

Music from her loud speakers thumping in the background.

A hand I didn’t want was on my wrist, and before I could react, the door burst open.

He was there — calm but ready to burn the place down if he had to.

He didn’t tell me I was safe.

He just made it true.

We ran.

Down the stairs, out into the night.

Headlights came fast, too fast.

I knew we were in danger.

Next thing I remembered was waking up to my best friend shouting my name.

Everything blurred.

Then we were back in that quiet kitchen.

This time he closed the space between us.

His hand found the small of my back, and he kissed me —

slow, like he wanted to make sure I knew it was safe to fall.

And I did.

Even in the dream, I could feel the reminder —

that the same arms that protect you can also hold you too tight.

But I also knew he’d listen if I told him.

Before I woke up, I told him,

If you guard me, guard beside me.

Not over me.

He just said,

Always.

I woke up with my heart racing, lips tingling, and that feeling you get when you’re sure it was more than a dream.

Because that’s what I want —

A love that stands between me and the storm without becoming the storm.

A shield that knows when to lower.

A kiss that leaves the windows open.

When he finally comes into my life and not just my dreams, I’ll know what to say.

Kiss me where the armor opens.

Guard me without hiding me.

Let’s build a home that breathes.