the good, the bad and the impossible

Do good things in life come in three?...
I just woke up of my day sleep to face another night of work. I work shifts. It's not healthy, but I love it.
That apart, everytime I have a dream related to that I get somehow disturbed by the thought of it existing. IT??!
, an undescribable 'it', the essence of the existence of what I call a live memory. Anyway, let's say there are three loves I recognize: The one you should love, the one you shouldn't and the one you can't. And subsequently: you won't keep the one you should love, you love the one you shouldn't and you want to be able to have the one you can't. It feels as an unrequited love. Far in distance and in the whole sense of it: unreachable by any other means. Basta.


Luckly the thought occupies my mind only when I dream of him, which I thank my subconscious to be scarcely, the memory thogh lingers on. It is not pleasant to dream about good times and wish they were back. Because they are not and they won't. And it sucks.

I don't want to recreate the sense or the nonsense of it. I think you will always go back to the platonic memories because they awake feelings you may believe to be in a slumber, to be numb. It doesn't matter what you feel anymore, because you want to be realistic and move on.
So I dreamt about him. It's something I can't control. It was sad. I dreamt a kind of a cyclic punishment, in which I was seeing him everyday and he would not notice me. In the end of this dream, in a room full of people where I could recognize him I cry in one of the occasions. Oh, how sweet and hopeless, that: "he doesn't notice me anymore" that I confirm and deconfirm as time goes by, I cry and dry my tears twisted palms, to the outside. If it means anything.
I don't think I master routine relationships.
I wonder too much until they loose meaning. If I managed to last in this so unreal harmony is because "the good" was always by my side, as it should be, giving me a lesson of endurance and meaningful reasons to coexist. When I think back, it all made sense, "the good" is the dream man, you know the perfect man, that one we say it doesn't exist: it exists. The one who always listens to you, who holds when you need to, whose eyes shine when you make yourself pretty. WE were a living example of balanced harmony, of mutual respect, a gift of personal freedom, the other half that fit. Aware of my privileged position I let my mind seek for dreamy "impossibles" because of having an island in him to come back when the dream was over. And life made sense again. And I could taste harmony again, let my heart beat freely, regularly.

It crashed by it's own idyllic nature, loyal until the end, I let go because I needed suspense, tension, passionate sadness, challenge. I craved for "the bad", the one who loves you for the wrong reasons, the one I shouldn't love, the one that turns me inside out, upside down and makes my world rock, we give away to each other in a way I never experienced, I wonder I ever will or if it is possible to feel that... All that passion, the hurricane of feelings I missed. So physical.
I haven't had the time to analyse that. In order to state a theory, like scientists, I have to experiment. There is no empiric proof on the permanence of relationships. I jumped on a rollercoaster with "the bad". Can't be with or without him.
I chose that, but I know I shouldn't go there...
I breathe, dream on, I look to the ceiling and think: And there came a dream to remember what I can't forget, what I can't have.