A young man was kneeling next to her, massaging her body with a thick, warm, oil.“Doctor Mueller?” she asked.“No, it is me,” PLATO replied, �...but I am part of him, or he is part of me... remember? He loves you, too... or at least he lusts after you. I can sense his male pheromones whenever you two are in a room together.” He laughed slightly, “They aren’t as powerful as your pheromones when he is near, but they prove that you lust after each other.”“Is that why you used his image in this dream?”. Eventually, he took my hand and sat me on the couch, poured me a glass of wine, and asked me what was wrong. I blurted it out, too much wine and my silly hormones. I told him my feelings, how happy I was to see him, how much him being back in town meant, and how I didn’t want to lose him. He sat, listened, his arms on his knees, hands clasped together. “There is no boyfriend,” I told him, “there never has been…” He looked at me, not quite understanding. “I love you, Danny, I always have.”. More

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