I wake up panting and glance wildly around. "Oh! It... it was just a dream..." I lay back and stare sightlessly at the ceiling. The aching makes me squirm. Why must I dream about these things? I rub my face, trying to calm down. Finally I get out of bed and pull on my favorite green sweater and jeans. As I go to do my hair I see my reflection in the mirror. I peer into my blue eyes. Does anyone but me see the sadness there? The pain? My gaze drifts to my hair. It tooks dead and limp. With a little sigh I throw it into a ponytail. I floof the end a little, testing the springiness. It'll have to do. I can't bear the sight of myself any longer, and I'm late for work anyway. Work. I'm not looking forward to it, not after my dreams last night. I can tell already today will be one of my bad days. I briefly consider going back to bed to wait it out. To pretend I don't exist until tomorrow comes. But, no. I get to see Bob, and that is all the reason I need to get out of bed and get going.


As I walk through the familiar brick gate into Bob's yard each step seems to be harder than the last, my feet getting heavier and heavier. I dread today. I pause as I see the machines talking and idly playing with a ball. I don't want to greet them, I don't want to talk to them. I just want to get into the office and hide from everyone. But it's too late, they're calling me over.

"Hello, everyone!" I try a smile. No one notices how strained it is, how hard it is for me to hold it in place, no one notices it doesn't touch my eyes. I'm barely there as they talk happily about this or that, I'm not sure. "Well, that sounds great, but I've got to go check the schedule."

"Ok, Wendy!"

With a breath of relief I go into the office and lean back against the door for a moment to collect myself. The office is dark and empty. Where's Bob? I go take my place behind the desk and close my eyes, wishing I was home. But there's work to do. I look at the desk calendar. We're scheduled to fix some bridge. I know that place. There's a meadow nearby, and a river. The perfect place for a romantic picnic. Suddenly I feel someone has grabbed my heart and is squeezing. I close my eyes in pain. I can barely breath. The memories of my dream fresh and raw in my memory. Just then the door opens.

"Hiya, Wendy! How're you doing?"

No. Not him. Not now. I look up into Bob's eyes and I am lost. The room melts away, the schedule disappears, nothing is left but me and him and the pounding of my heart. I dreamed about you last night... Shaken, I quietly say "Good, thank you. And you?" Notice me, notice my need, Bob, please...

"Just great! Come on out and we'll talk about today's assignment!"


I stand next to Bob as he speaks. The sound of his voice is like a warm blanket wrapping around me, though he ignores me entirely. Finally he's done and cries out "Can we fix it!?" as he looks around at his friends. All his friends except me. My vision becomes blurry as I struggle to stem the tide.

"Yes we can!" Everyone shouts.

"No, we can't..." I whisper. We can't fix this. Not us, not ever. To him I'm just an employee, barely a friend.

"Oh, Wendy?"

Suddenly I looked up and our eyes meet again. It's like having the wind knocked out of me. "Yes, Bob?" Did he notice the tone I used? The hope in those two little words? My eyes are huge.

"Are you ok?"

"What?" My lips part slightly. No, I'm not ok, I love you, I want you to hold me, kiss me, love me... But I can't say that, I can't ever let on. If he doesn't return my feelings... Swallowing back the panic I answer. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good, cause I need you to pick up some supplies we need."

"Oh. Sure, Bob."

"Come on, Wendy, you can ride with me!" I turn with a forced smile and jump on.


The wind feels cold and refreshing on my face. As we drive along I close my eyes, surrendering to the tears that have threatened me all day. By time we stop moving I feel a little better. I feel like an observer in my own body, and I watch myself interacting, helping to load the supplies. I chat and give out niceties and am socially acceptable. Even if inside I'm a mess. Inside I am the aftermath of a tornado. Inside I am dying. It's all I can do to climb back on. I feel almost numb as we take off, barely able to hang on. I make us stop so I can get some lunch, just sandwiches, a plan forming in my mind. Finally we're at the site of the bridge. I look around at the meadow, the flowers, the river. I long to lay among those flowers, and for one brief moment I can almost see myself laying there happily laughing as Bob leans over me, imagine running my fingers through his hair. I shake myself as I see Bob approaching. I jump down.

"Hi, Wendy, what do you have?"

"I got us some lunch, Bob."

"Great! I'm starving. Let's eat and then we'll get to work!"

I carry the sandwiches over to the grass at the side and sit. I stiffen and force myself not to look up. Please come sit with me... A shadow looming over me lets me know he's answered this plea at least. He sits down across from me and grins, making my insides melt.

"This is great! It's like a picnic!"

"Yes, I suppose it is." I smile, my first genuine smile of the day. I hold out a sandwich to him, and he smiles, his eyes on mine, as he reaches out to take it, almost making me drop it. His fingers brush mine and I gasp. Fire has erupted within me, as a shock travels from my fingers up my arm and settles into my stomach, which starts churning. Oh, Bob... Tell me you felt that... But as I watch he calmly starts to eat. Suddenly I realize the machines are drawing close, reminding me we're not alone. Everyone around me is talking, laughing. I want to scream. Suddenly I'm not hungry anymore. Suddenly I'm drowning. Wave after wave of pain washes over me and it's all I can do to not to throw my lunch to the fishes. I can't taste it anyway over the bile I keep swallowing back. This was a stupid idea! What was I thinking!? A picnic? Ha, a picnic indeed! How romantic, Wendy. I feel slightly nausious as I stand and wipe my hands off on my jeans.

"Well, that was just delicious. Thank you, Wendy!"

"No problem, Bob." Anything for you, Bob...

I watch as Bob walks over to look at the bridge. I see they've already started. They have everything ready for the new parts to be put in place. My eyes drift to the river. It calms me a little. A part of me wishes to drown in it. A part of me pictures me and Bob swimming and splashing each other as he pulls me close and...

"Hey, Wendy, can you give me a hand with this?"

I look over to see Bob holding a piece of wood in place. I go to take over, holding the board for him. He stands so close I can smell him, the scent invading my senses, hitting that spot in my stomach. It's heavenly and irritating at the same time, like an itch that loves to be scratched. He reaches over me and my eyes flutter closed with anticipation. I can almost feel his arms around me. But instead I hear the sound of hammering. Oh, of course... I turn slightly so I can peer up into his face, and I gasp lightly. He's closer than I thought. My eyes drift to his lips, pursed in concentration. So close... I swallow hard. I wish he'd hurry up. If he takes much longer I might do something I'd regret. Would I regret it? A part of me wonders. What if he's unreceptive? Angry, even? What if he fires me? I couldn't live away from him. Being close but invisible is better than being noticed and driven away.

"There! Thank you, Wendy."

He turns to look down at me. This close, those warm eyes, his scent... Oh, Bob... "You're welcome, Bob." I hesitate, my lips parted slightly as I silently beg him. Kiss me... I step back. I can't handle it anymore. "Hey, Bob, if you don't mind I'm going to head back now." Just because I long to be near him doesn't mean I can always stomch being quite so close to him.

"Sure, Wendy, we'll have this done in no time!"

I walk away a little, then look back. He's already forgotten me. He's already back to work. For just a moment I imagine how he'd look working shirtless, his muscles rippling. "He's certainly dedicated to his work..." If only he'd turn some of that dedication towards me... Time slips away as I watch this brilliant man working his magic.


Back at the yard I duck into the office. My sanctuary... For the second time time that day I break down crying. I sit at the desk, my face buried in my hands, heart wrenching sobs wrack my body. I am lost to myself, lost in my sorrow, the ache at the bottom of my stomach is almost painful. I feel empty, alone. I want... need to be held. Something soft touching my face startles me. I sit up suddenly. Was I asleep? I must have been practically laying on the desk. With a little shake of my head I focus on the source of the softness. Pilchard is sitting in that royal and elegant pose cats have, watching me with big, knowing eyes.

"Oh, Pilchard." I scoop him up and hold him close, relishing in the contact, drawing as much comfort from it as I can. I bury my face in his fur. This is Bob's cat... How many times has Bob done this? I feel the tide rising back up, but as Pilchard purrs I feel my heart steadying, my breathing returning to normal. Maybe I should get a cat of my own... "Thank you," I murmer. How long I hold him I don't know, but I put him down as I hear Bob and the gang arriving. My stomach tightens at the sound of Bob's laughter. I don't want to face him again. I need to face him again. The air around me thickens, suffocating me as I leave the office and greet everyone.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you but I could sure go for some dinner. What do you say, Wendy?"

My stomach drops out from under me. Not like this would be the first time I've dined with him but, today of all days? Oh, Bob, I'd love to... Then I see everyone watching me. We would all be going. I am emotionally drained. "Thank you, Bob, but I'm going to head home instead." Stop me. Please, Bob. Stop me. Tell me to go out with you. Push me into the wall and ravish me!

"Ok, Wendy, you have a good night."

"Oh. You too, Bob." I feel like he's just punched me. The pain gnaws on my heart, my very soul, all the way home.


I walk through my door and look around my home. It feels desolate here. I feel desolate here. Oh, why didn't I go to dinner with Bob? I wander into the kitchen for some ice cream. Ice cream understands me. Ice cream will heal me. I collapse in front of the tv and tune out whatever's on as I make myself fat. At least if I'm fat I'll know Bob won't want me... Hot tears are pricking my eyes. How do I even have tears left? Angrily I throw my empty ice cream carton at the garbage and collapse into the couch, willing it to swallow me up. As I cry myself to sleep I remind myself some days are better than others. Some days I can deal with being around Bob, some days I can even have fun with him and forget how I feel about him. Some days I can just be happy and enjoy being with him. "One day at a time..." I murmer to myself. Maybe tomorrow will be a good day. Maybe tonight I won't have any dreams. It is with this hope that I drift to sleep.