I started to have dreams about my boyfriend one year or two years after we have been together. Most of the them were just fragments, pieces and flashes of images. Sometimes I couldn't even see his face clearly in the dreams, but somehow I know it was him, maybe it was because of his gestures or his voice. There were two which I could recall if I dig deep enough into the Pensieve.

The first one is not crustal clear, I only remembered the ending of the story. I was out with some friends from IC, and since I was the only Chinese girls in the whole mechanical engineering department, all of them were boys. One of them was taking me home with his car, and I don't know how, but I ended up in the front (which is very unusual as I feel very uncomfortable in the front and I always sit in the back). He was driving, we were talking randomly. He stop at a traffic light, and turned to look at me, he lift his hand from the gear stick and touched my hand. I was unsure of what he was going for, and didn't respond. During the rest of the trip, he moved forward and held my hand. I knew what was happening, and I knew it was not right, it was even shameful. But his touch was so soft, so gentle and so sweet, that I didn't have the willpower to say no. I didn't dare to look up, I kept my head down, ashamed of myself, yet enjoying every second of it. His hand slide up to my chest, my neck, then my chin. The car stop, we had reached our destination. I got off the car, the fresh night air blew some senses into my then paralysed brain and I was ready to say goodbye. But he was not going to let me go easily, he held my hand and bent down, intending to kiss me. I was not looking at him, I averted my eyes to avoid eye contact as I stepped back trying to get away. That was when I saw him, standing there, not far away from the car. My boyfriend apparently went out to wait for me, and his face, it was the only thing which I remembered, it was crystal clear. He was looking at me, not at us, only at me. And his expression was like a knife stabbing my heart, working its way slowly but steadily into the muscles. His eyes were deep with sorrow and I knew he was hurt, and he stood there, so out of place and awkward like he was the one who was not suppose to be here, that he was the fifth wheel, the unwanted extra. I cried, I cried myself to consciousness and kept on crying. My boyfriend who was sleeping next me woke up and stunned, he thought I had another nightmare and tried to comfort me. I could not and didn't want to talk, too ashamed of my own dream. I would never forget his face, his eyes, and shall make sure that I never ever see that expression in real life.

The second one is much much more joyful and bizarre. I was back in junior high school, in my hometown, sitting in the classroom with everybody else. We were all in our uniforms, white shirt on top with sea blue shorts on the bottom and I had my hair up in a ponytail like I used to.  We were in an English class, and I was not giving it my full attention. I looked around and could see the sun ray dropping through the window, the clean milky white curtain dancing with the wind, I bet it was a fine day outside though I couldn't quite see it. Everything inside seemed to have a soft golden outline from the sun, all the edges were blurring with that milky white colour as if I am seeing through a light veil. I turned to my left and saw a young boy taking note with his head bent down, I couldn't remember him, I was unsure if I actually knew him. I adjusted my attention back to the blackboard in front to join the lesson until the end. The bell rang, it was that old ringing bell I used to hear back in elementary school. Everything looked so nostalgic, like a movie from the 90's, where nothing was certain, where everyday was a new adventure, and everything seemed to be pink like blush with love and hope. I was enjoying it, like living through my own memory of my earlier years, back then I was such an energetic and pure little girl, always running around like a tireless white bunny. The last lesson was math and I had never liked that subject. It was getting hot, I started to sweat, the fans on the ceiling were on. I turned around again to look at him, and our eyes met. It was a clean, tidy boy with a sunny smile. I smiled back, he folded his arms on the desk, and rest his head on them. I was puzzled, but the heat was mounting, and I started to feel drowsy, so I rest myself on my desk just like him and looked at him. Our eyes locked, and it was hypnotising, it was too comforting to look into them and I was drifting away (yes, I was drifting away in my own dream, weird I know...), and I was seeing stars shining in the dark night. The ringing beel woke me up, the rest of the class was excited, everyone was packing and ready to head home. I looked at him again and thought he must be a very sweet boy, warm like the sun. The classroom slowly emptied itself, I got up and went to the blackboard to wipe it clean. I heard his footsteps as he approached, I was still holding the sponge against the board when I turned around to see him. He inched in, and I was right, he smelled nice. My heartbeat rose up, and I suddenly realised, this was wrong, I have a boyfriend. He was very near me now, tempting to touch and hold, when I finally looked up and said: 'I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend and I don't want to hurt him.' He smiled and said nothing, reaching for my free hand. I stammered: 'No, no, I, I can't do this, I love him. He, he is my boyfriend, I can't do this.' Now, this is the bizarre part, before this moment I couldn't make out what he looked like, I could see his face, his eyes, nose and mouth, but it was like a jigsaw too complicated for me to piece them together, I couldn't make any sense out of it. But as he approached, I could start to recognise it, like finally being able to penetrate the veil. And it was my boyfriend, I was super confused, I never went to school with my boyfriend as he was several grades above me and we were never even in the same school. He chuckled and asked: 'You really don't recognise me?' I was stammering as I tried to explain: 'No, I mean yes. No... You, you looked different, and why didn't you say anything when I told you I have a boyfriend?' His smile enlarged and instead of answering, he kissed me. My consciousness rushed back to me with that kiss, kicking me hard to yank me away from the dream. It was the only dream I ever wanted to reenter and relive.

Bitter sweet, bitter sweet, love is a romantic torture like the rose. Yet, I can never ever imagine a life without him.