I felt her presence before I saw her, before I felt her, or rather, before she felt me. It struck me hard and fast, sending my mind into a tailspin of emotion. Her beauty.her pure existence in the realm of my dream made me feel like I was 8 again. Stepping off of that bus and seeing her for the first time. And loving her instantaneously. She was the most real person I knew. Flesh and bone and beauty and love, God, love for *me*. It was so real I thought it could all just kill me with emotion. 'But this is a dream, Max.a *dream*.' I told myself a million times. Over and over. It wasn't real, it wasn't really happening.

As if this dream already hadn't been hard enough. I had struggled with that damn boulder for what seemed like hours. Then even fiber of muscle in my body became syrupy and leaded, unable to push the rock and close off that chamber forever. I'd had that dream every night since we were all in the cave together last. And, since then, I had wanted nothing more than to shut off and kill every event and word that happened within those walls. So it seemed natural that I had been "closing it off" in my dreams. But never before had *she* been in this dream.other dreams, sure, but this one was different.

Liz appeared in dreams where I was in a tux and she was in an evening gown.sometimes a white gown and veil, and I had my arm wrapped around her, lightly kissing the ticklish spot by her ear, whispering sweet-nothings as she smiled and stroked my hand. Some dreams, they could be more, intense than others. Where I'd be kissing her warm bare skin and no words were ever spoken except for small gasps of our names under low breaths.

This definitely wasn't one of those dreams. This was a dream where I found myself battling with my previous world and how I wanted nothing more than for it all to go away and leave me be. Let me lay on my bed in the middle of Roswell, New Mexico thinking nothing catastrophic was going to happen if I saved the person I'd loved my entire life. I guess I had always subconsciously made sure Liz wasn't a part of a dream that was difficult or upsetting. But she had come. Just the presence of her had made me stop and turn away from my battle at hand. I could do nothing more than walk to the edge of this cliff and turn my back. I didn't think I could handle letting her in. I could control this dream. It was my dream. And I had spent my entire summer forcing myself to black everything out.

It was so hot up there, at the point of that rock. I had on thin but heat-absorbent layers of material. Something amazingly soft and I was burning up. Tension, fear, weariness. All of these emotions too heightened for this to just be any dream. Dream emotions, dream sights.they were duller, not as sharp. But everything I was seeing and feeling sunk into me with perfect clarity. I felt as if I was living that moment.

I was divided in half. One half was willing her to go away from me. For her to turn around and let me be alone. And the other part of me was aching to touch her, feel her, and be locked in her love again. And I guess, because it was my dream, and dreams.they give you what you need and want, she came to me.

Then sound ceased to exist. I couldn't hear anything anymore. Not until she pressed her tender body completely up against the back of my body. Then I could hear everything. Everything that mattered. Her heart beating, her blood rushing through her veins, her breath rising and falling against my back and expanding and contracting her lungs. The warmth of her hand that cradled my soft spot on my side. The feel of her face lying softly on my back. And her open mouth warming small puffs of breath through the thin material I was wearing.

I closed my eyes, letting every sensation she aroused in me run rapidly through my body. How perfect everything felt. How extremely it probed my heart, making me feel for the first time how warm and comforting the sun could be, and not the ability it has to burn.

Should I say something to her? I know, I just *know* this isn't a simple dream. Something more was going on here. My words seemed to matter, like if I said something, it would count in reality. God, the prospect of speaking to her after it being so long, and after what our last words had been.what could I possibly say? But how could I not speak to her? We were standing on the edge of our own private earth together, her holding onto me for dear life. Me loving her completely, regardless of what had happened those 3 months ago.