She was just there.

She entered the room. It seemed to be my old house in Catia in West Caracas but different; lots of cushions on the floor in the large room, people milling about. I was madly in love with her and spent some time trying to get her attention but she was busy with other people and, I surmised, important stuff to discuss. More important than talking to me. At last she turned to me, smiled and got closer. And then I woke up with that desperately empty feeling. She was so real and tanglble, so full of an energy that flowed and filled me. But she wasn't anyone I know or have ever known. She didn't exist. I had to get up and go to the loo, navigate the darkness in the room while that vivid dream began to unravel and dissolve.