Forced into celibacy through second-hand grief

Last night I had wonderfully erotic and steamy dreams. The man, who was only visibly to me a a dark, shadowy, yet very sexy silhouette, so desperately wanted me that he couldn't even wait to get home or to a hotel. He took me into the shadows of a park and did things that had my whole body reacting. I literally cursed at my alarm for snapping me back into the reality of a life with a man who mainly touches me in anger, whose kisses are empty and cold and who last made love to me a month ago. I always imagine that when I became engaged that my fiancé and I would briefly relive that intoxicating time in our relationship when we couldn't keep our hands off each other. But then I never factored in the possibility that his mother would suddenly die right after our engagement and suck the spirit (and sex drive) right out of him. No more touching, holding hands, kissing or any other form of intimacy. Grief has destroyed every aspect of our union to the point where I am hanging on by a memory of what we once were. In the meantime my body yearns for the sensations I felt in my dreams. The yearning which I try so hard to suppress has found a home in my subconscious mind. As I climb into bed exhausted from my gym workout, I hope beyond all hope that my shadowy lover awaits once more.